AMES    1C 

II 


EDUCAf  IOH  IIBR« 


V 


"The  groves  were  God's  first  temples." 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER 


FOB   SCHOOL  AND   HOME. 


COMPILED  AND  ARRANGED  BY 

JAMES  JOHOOTOT, 

AUTHOR  OP 

"PRINCIPLES  AND  PRACTICE  OF  TEACHING,"  "A  GEOGRAPHICAL  READER,' 
"COUNTRY  SCHOOL-HOUSES,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY, 

1,  3,  AND  5  BOND   STREET. 
1883. 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 

1883. 

EDUCATION  IIBB  J 


PREFACE. 


THE  philosophy  which  underlies  the  art  of  reading  may 
be  briefly  stated.  In  the  process  of  mental  development 
objects  are  observed,  and  the  perceptive  faculties  are  there- 
by cultivated.  In  this  way  the  mind  comes  in  possession 
of  the  bundles  of  related  ideas  which  we  term  thoughts. 
These  thoughts  seek  expression,  and  in  the  endeavor  to  ex- 
press, speech  is  cultivated.  The  form  of  speech  is  a  matter 
of  imitation.  A  thought  is  expressed  by  a  sentence,  and 
the  child,  in  learning  to  speak,  uses  either  fragmentary  or 
complete  sentences.  When  sentences  are  written,  the  pro- 
cess of  obtaining  and  expressing  the  contained  thought  is 
reading. 

Under  the  old  system,  which,  happily,  is  now  rapidly 
becoming  obsolete,  the  mechanical  pronunciation  of  the 
words  of  a  sentence  in  their  proper  order  was  called  read- 
ing ;  but  most  improperly  so,  as  the  apprehension  and  ren- 
dition of  the  thought,  which  constitute  the  very  essence 
of  reading,  formed  no  part  of  the  process.  The  means  were 
mistaken  for  the  end,  and  the  true  end  was  not  reached. 
In  consequence  of  this  mistaken  notion,  reading  exercises,  in 
the  schools  where  it  prevailed,  were  dull,  distasteful,  and 
unprofitable  to  the  pupil,  and  monotonous  and  unpleasant 
to  the  hearer. 

The  means  employed  in  these  schools  were  as  vicious  as 
the  theory  adopted.  The  pupil  was  required  to  pronounce 

M577CE9 


iv  PREFACE. 

words  which  he  did  not  understand,  a  process  not  only 
negatively  barren  and  wasteful,  but  positively  evil,  as  it  en- 
gendered the  habit  of  regarding  words  as  disassociated  from 
ideas.  Again,  he  was  required  to  attempt  to  read  that 
which  was  quite  beyond  his  mental  grasp,  or  which  was  so 
foreign  to  his  experience  that,  understanding  being  hope- 
less, he  ceased  to  try  to  understand,  each  successive  lesson 
more  widely  separating  language  and  thought.  The  diet 
of  husks,  unfortunately,  was  not  confined  to  the  prodigal 
who  had  wasted  his  substance  in  riotous  living. 

Under  the  later  system,  the  truth  is  recognized  that  the 
object  of  all  school  exercises  is  to  promote  mental  growth, 
to  which  end  ideas  and  thoughts  are  indispensable.  Words, 
like  bank-notes,  are  regarded,  not  for  their  intrinsic,  but 
for  their  representative  value.  In  so  far  as  they  clearly  re- 
veal the  gold  of  thought,  they  may  be  taken  for  genuine  coin, 
but,  failing  in  this,  they  are  worthless  counterfeits.  The 
kinds  of  ideas  and  thoughts  are  also  a  matter  of  serious 
moment.  In  each  stage  of  the  mind's  growth  those  only 
should  be  used  that  will  command  the  attention  by  the  in- 
terest excited,  that  will  stimulate  the  reflective  activities  of 
the  mind,  and  that  will  incite  to  further  observation  and 
investigation. 

With  these  objects  kept  clearly  in  view,  reading,  and  the 
general  acquisition  of  language,  become  secondary,  and  not 
primary  processes.  They  are  incident  to  the  general  objects 
of  instruction.  Reading  matter  is  selected  upon  the  same 
principles  as  studies — that  which  will  interest,  stimulate, 
and  incite.  At  every  stage  of  growth  it  is  such  as  will  best 
serve  the  present  purposes  of  the  mind,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  promote  the  next  step  in  advance.  The  pupil  reads 
because  he  is  anxious  to  know.  His  progress  is  rapid  be- 
cause he  is  interested.  His  manner  of  reading  is  correct, 
because  he  understands  the  thought,  and  thought  controls 
the  expression. 


PREFACE.  v 

The  present  work  has  been  prepared  as  a  companion  to 
the  Geographical  Reader,  to  furnish  reading  matter  of  this 
desirable  kind.  Natural  History,  whether  considered  in  its 
relations  to  mental  development  or  as  furnishing  the  mind 
with  useful  knowledge,  can  scarcely  be  overestimated.  It 
deals  with  life  in  all  its  varied  forms,  and  from  concrete 
facts  it  rises  to  a  consideration  of  those  principles  upon 
which  human  existence  depends.  Its  common  facts  are 
such  as  come  under  the  cognizance  of  every  pupil,  giving  a 
basis  of  personal  observation  which  makes  the  treatment  of 
every  department  intelligible  and  of  the  greatest  interest. 

In  selecting  the  articles,  an  endeavor  has  been  made  to 
secure  the  interest  which  comes  from  variety.  Care  has 
been  taken  also  that  the  statements  shall  be  scientifically 
correct,  though  mere  scientific  abstracts  have  been  avoided. 
The  poetry  and  general  literature  of  natural  history  have 
also  received  due  consideration.  In  many  of  the  articles  it 
will  be  found  that  the  statements  are  clear  and  precise, 
answering  the  demands  of  science,  but  at  the  same  time  are 
crisp  and  sparkling,  stimulating  the  imagination,  and  giv- 
ing that  nameless  charm  which  appeals  to  the  sense  of  beauty 
and  arouses  the  finer  emotions  and  sentiments.  In  beauty 
of  literary  form,  and  in  variety  of  literary  expression,  the 
work  will  be  found  fully  equal  to  the  reading  books  that 
have  an  unlimited  scope  of  subjects. 

Another  point  has  been  kept  in  view.  The  old  primal 
animal  instinct  in  man  to  hunt  and  killj  necessary  in  savage 
life,  still  persists,  and  is  sufficiently  strong  without  special 
cultivation.  At  present  the  lower  animals  need  no  longer 
be  regarded  as  enemies  to  be  destroyed,  but  rather  as  friends 
to  be  cultivated,  or  as  curious  objects  to  be  studied.  Most 
of  the  articles  selected,  it  will  be  seen,  are  pervaded  by  a 
strong  humanitarian  sentiment,  which  is  felt  as  an  under- 
lying principle,  and  is  all  the  more  effective  from  not  being 
formally  expressed.  The  tenderness  and  finer  emotions 


vi  PREFACE. 

which  come  from  the  study  and  care  of  creatures  inferior 
to  ourselves  are  elements  essential  to  the  highest  character. 
It  will  be  seen  that  the  general  subjects  follow  each 
other  in  an  ascending  series,  conforming  in  the  main  to 
scientific  treatment.  In  each  branch  the  topics  relating  to 
home  life  are  first  presented,  to  the  end  that  instruction 
may  be  based  upon  experience,  that  greater  interest  may 
be  excited,  and  that  the  pupils  may  be  led  to  make  careful 
and  accurate  observations — a  most  necessary  step  in  true 
mental  development.  These  details  of  life  about  home  are 
followed  by  a  series  of  sketches,  which,  while  exciting  pres- 
ent interest,  have  a  tendency  to  produce  a  hunger  that 
only  large  reading  and  reflection  will  satisfy. 

PRINCETON,  N.  J.,  March  3, 1883. 


INTRODUCTOEY. 


To  TEACHERS. — Mechanical  and  unintelligent  reading 
is  the  great  reproach  of  our  schools  at  the  present  time. 
In  the  process  of  instruction,  whenever  the  attention  is  al- 
most exclusively  directed  to  words,  such  reading  inevitably 
results.  The  cause  of  the  evil  at  once  suggests  the  remedy  : 
make  thought  the  primary  object  of  attention,  and  regard 
words  as  important  only  as  containing  the  thought.  When 
the  subject  is  intelligible  and  interesting,  it  takes  full  pos- 
session of  the  mind,  compelling  the  proper  delivery.  Pro- 
ductive effort  on  the  part  of  teachers  will  therefore  be  di- 
rected to  the  end  that  the  pupils  clearly  understand  what 
they  read. 

When  pernicious  habits  are  once  formed,  the  task  of  the 
teacher  is  a  difficult  one.  He  must  not  only  teach  the 
right  way,  but  he  must  eradicate  the  false  notions,  and 
correct  the  consequent  false  practice.  'Of  one  thing,  how- 
ever, he  may  be  sure  :  one  factor  indispensable  to  his  suc- 
cess is  the  use  of  reading  matter  which  will  interest  the 
pupils  and  thereby  arouse  mental  activity.  The  greater  the 
interest,  the  more  quickly  will  the  best  results  be  obtained. 

The  tones  of  reading  usually  should  be  those  of  com- 
mon conversation.  The  general  law  in  regard  to  reading 
is  that  it  should  be  like  speech  under  similar  circumstances. 
When  the  pupil  reads  a  sentence  which  he  has  used  in  ex- 


viii  INTRODUCTORY. 

pressing  a  thought,  the  delivery  will  conform  to  speech 
with  great  exactness.  When  reading  the  thoughts  of 
others,  this  conformity  will  be  in  the  exact  ratio  of  the  con- 
formity of  the  thought  and  form  of  expression  to  the  men- 
tal habits  of  the  reader.  In  impassioned  reading,  the  in- 
tense emotions  need  be  indicated  rather  than  acted,  the 
reading  becoming  speech  moderated.  Giving  full  weight 
to  all  these  modifying  and  exceptional  circumstances,  the 
statement  that  "reading  is  speaking  from  the  book"  is 
true. 

In  using  this  book,  something  more  than  mere  reading 
should  be  accomplished.  It  can  be  made  instrumental  in 
development  and  training  in  many  different  ways. 

First. — At  the  close  of  each  lesson  the  subject-matter 
should  be  familiarly  discussed  in  class,  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  whether  all  the  points  are  understood,  and  of 
exciting  a  greater  interest.  Obscure  points  should  be 
cleared  up  by  the  teacher. 

Second. — If  there  are  literary  allusions,  they  should  be 
briefly  noticed  and  explained,  just  enough  to  awaken  curi- 
osity, but  not  enough  to  satisfy  it.  A  great  mistake  may 
be  made  by  dwelling  too  much  upon  mere  accessories  and 
side-issues  :  the  perspective  is  destroyed,  the  attention  is 
diverted  from  the  main  topic  and  dissipated  on  irrelevant 
details,  and  continuity  of  thought  is  broken  up. 

Third. — Immediately  after  the  lesson,  or  the  next  day, 
the  pupils  may  be  called  upon  to  state  orally  the  main 
points.  Care  should  be  taken  that  thoughts,  not  lan- 
guage, are  reproduced.  In  this  way  accuracy  and  fluency 
in  speech  are  cultivated,  and  a  test  is  made  of  both  under- 
standing and  memory. 

Fourth. — Each  topic  and  sub-topic  may  be  made  the 
basis  of  a  composition  exercise.  In  the  effort  to  reproduce, 
the  use  of  capitals,  punctuation,  and  all  the  mechanics  of 
construction  are  mastered,  and  the  practice  tends  to  clear- 


INTRODUCTORY.  ix 

ness  and  precision  in  expression.  By  both  the  oral  and  the 
written  exercises  another  good  results  :  the  pupil  incident- 
ally and  unconsciously  learns  the  art  of  arrangement  in 
thought.  This  art  may  afterward  be  supplemented  by  the 
science  which  gives  the  reason  for  the  order. 

Fifth. — When  the  topics  relating  to  familiar  things  are 
read,  let  the  pupil  describe  some  similar  thing,  or  relate 
some  incident  bearing  upon  the  subject,  which  has  come 
under  his  own  observation  or  has  been  told  him.  Such  an 
exercise  associates  the  school-lesson  with  personal  experi- 
ence, and  produces  that  functional  activity  of  the  mind 
which  is  one  of  the  principal  ends  of  education. 

Sixth. — Special  topics  suggested  by  the  lesson  may  be 
given  out  which  will  require  careful  observation,  and  some- 
times investigation  extending  over  considerable  time. 
Notes  of  results  may  be  made,  and  the  whole  topic  finally 
presented  in  the  form  of  a  report.  This  trains  the  percep- 
tion, and  calls  into  active  exercise  all  the  higher  faculties 
of  the  mind. 

Seventh. — Attention  may  next  be  called  to  the  litera- 
ture of  the  subject,  and  books  may  be  searched  for  further 
information  upon  this  and  kindred  topics.  Items  in  news- 
papers that  touch  upon  the  points  under  consideration 
may  be  clipped  and  preserved,  and  magazines  laid  under 
contribution.  When  the  mind  is  awake  and  alert,  it  is  sur- 
prising how  much  valuable  matter  may  be  found  that  would 
otherwise  have  escaped  notice. 

As  resultants  of  such  a  course  as  is  here  pointed  out, 
pupils  will  become  eager  to  pursue  studies  of  which  they 
have  obtained  a  smattering  and  in  which  they  have  taken  so 
much  interest,  and  education  will  be  rescued  from  the  re- 
proach of  being  a  mere  process  of  cramming  words,  or  un- 
related facts,  and  will  become  in  fact  what  it  is  in  name — 
the  means  by  which  all  the  functions  of  the  mind  are 
aroused  into  healthful  activity. 


X  INTRODUCTORY. 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. — In  many  cases,  for  the  purposes 
of  this  work,  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  abridge  articles 
as  they  originally  appeared.  Whenever  the  language  of 
the  author  has  been  preserved  throughout,  or  when  slight 
changes,  rendered  necessary  by  the  abridgment,  only  have 
been  made,  the  author's  name  has  been  appended  to  the 
article.  Where  both  language  and  arrangement  have  been 
changed  to  a  considerable  extent,  or  when  the  facts  from 
different  authorities  have  been  made  into  a  kind  of  mosaic, 
no  names  in  justice  could  be  given. 

It  will  be  seen  that  several  of  the  articles  are  credited 
to  the  magazines  from  which  they  were  selected  ;  in  these 
cases  the  names  of  the  authors  were  not  given.  It  must 
not  be  thought,  however,  that  our  indebtedness  to  the  maga- 
zines is  confined  to  the  few  selections  directly  ascribed  to 
them.  A  large  majority  of  the  articles  in  the  book  first 
made  their  appearance  in  some  one  of  the  English  or 
American  periodicals.  Some  of  these  have  been  collected 
into  books,  forming  an  important  part  of  the  literature 
of  the  subject,  and  some  of  them  still  remain  waifs  and 
estrays.  In  this  country  the  "Atlantic  Monthly,"  "Har- 
per's Magazine,"  and  the  "Century"  have  been  the  me- 
diums through  which  much  of  the  best  literature  of  natu- 
ral history  has  been  given  to  the  public. 

Through  the  magazines,  John  Burroughs,  at  once  sci- 
entific observer  and  poet,  first  became  known  ;  and  we  are 
sure  that  the  few  beautiful  extracts  which  we  have  made 
from  his  essays  will  lead  to  a  desire  for  a  more  general 
perusal  of  the  volumes  which  he  has  published ;  and  we 
are  equally  sure  that  taste  thus  developed  will  be  in  the 
direction  of  purity  and  refinement,  both  of  thought  and 
diction.  The  faculty  of  understanding  the  language  of 
birds,  which  Oriental  fancy  in  the  Arabian  tales  ascribed  to 
magical  art,  seems  to  have  been  inborn  with  Mr.  Burroughs, 
and  he,  more  than  any  other  writer  of  the  present  day,  may 


INTRODUCTORY.  xi 

be  considered  the  accredited  interpreter  of  the  feathered 
creation. 

We  are  most  largely  indebted,  however,  to  the  "  Popu- 
lar Science  Monthly  "  for  the  material  used.  Many  of  the 
articles  credited  to  different  authors  first  appeared  in  its 
pages,  and  the  most  valuable  productions  from  the  English 
magazines  were  given  to  the  American  public  through  its 
mediumship.  That  its  articles  are  not  confined  to  dry  state- 
ments of  scientific  facts  is  sufficiently  attested  by  the  ad- 
mirable sketches  from  the  pen  of  Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood. 
This  amateur  observer  has  a  poetic  insight  and  a  sense  of 
humor  which  invests  every  subject  with  which  he  deals 
with  a  peculiar  human  interest. 

While  thus  expressing  our  obligations,  we  would  say 
that  in  return  we  have  endeavored  to  put  good  matter  to 
the  best  of  uses — that  of  instructing  and  inspiring  the 
voung. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR   WA  YS.  PAGE 

Prelude  to  the  Forest  Hymn Bryant.  1 

The  Pride  of  New  England Atlantic  Monthly.  2 

How  Plants  Travel M.  ScJiele  De  Vere.  6 

Twining  Plants Francis  Darwin.  1 1 

Hook-Climbers Francis  Darwin.  15 

The  Hospitality  of  Plants M.  Schele  De  Vere.  25 

The  Rhodora Emerson.  30 

PART   II. 
STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS. 

The  Builder's  Tree  of  China World  of  Wonders.  31 

The  Scholar's  Plant  of  Egypt World  of  Wonders.  32 

A  Migratory  Rose Chambers' s  Journal.  35 

Refreshment-Trees 39 

The  Monarch  of  African  Forests * Figuier.  42 

The  Sacred  Tree  of  India 45 

The  Eucalyptus 48 

The  Sensitive-Plant  Shelley.  52 

PART  III. 

LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA. 

Animated  Jellies World  of  Wonders.  54 

Flowers  of  the  Sea. .                                           .  .Rev.  Samuel Lockwood.  57 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Stars  of  the  Sea 62 

Builders  in  the  Ocean 66 

Corals,  and  How  they  are  Studied Mrs.  Elizabeth  C.  Agassiz.  70 

The  Coral  Grove Percival.  76 

Crabs  and  their  Ways Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood.  78 

Fiddlers  upon  the  Shore Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood.  81 

Sea-Hermits  and  their  Homes . .                    Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood.  83 


PART  IV. 
HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS. 

The  Devil-Fish  and  his  Kin 86 

Shooting  and  Angling  Fishes Francis  Francis.  91 

Hunting-Fishes Francis  Francis.  94 

Fishes  Armed  with  Lightning 97 

PART  V. 
PIGMY   WORKERS  AND   BUILDERS. 

Ants :  their  Homes  and  Habits 101 

The  Aphides  and  their  Keepers Rev.  J.  G.  Wood.  105 

Spinners  of  the  Mulberry-Trees 109 

Honey-Gatherers 113 

The  Bumblebee Emerson.  119 

PART  VI. 
QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS. 

The  Pit-Digger  and  its  Victims T.  W.  Higginson.  122 

How  Mosquitoes  Manage Reaumur.  123 

Plant-Eating  and  Omnivorous  Ants 128 

Carnivorous  and  Agricultural  Ants 132 

The  Praying  Mantis Science  Monthly.  137 

The  Katydid Holmes.  140 

PART   VII. 
CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST. 

The  Monarch  of  the  Swamp 142 

Capture  of  a  Cayman Charles  Waierton.  148 


CONTENTS.  xv 

PAGE 

Tussle  with  a  Constrictor Charles  Waterton.     152 

Chameleons;  their  Habits  and  Color-Changes Science  Monthly.     157 

The  Chameleon. .  .  .Merrick.     162 


PART  VIII. 

OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS. 

Songsters  of  the  Garden James  Russell  Lowell.  164 

The  Song  of  Birds /.  Elliot  Cabot.  172 

Life  and  Song  in  the  Woods John  Burroughs.  177 

Bird  Life  and  Motion Atlantic  Monthly.  183 

Birds  in  Autumn Atlantic  Monthly.  188 

Robert  of  Lincoln Bryant.  190 

The  Mocking-Bird Alexander  Wilson.  194 

The  Persevering  Songster Boston.  Traveler,  1851.  199 

Bird-Notes White's  Selborne.  201 

Ode  to  the  Sky-lark Shelley.  204 

PART  IX. 
OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES. 

Homes  in  the  Woods John  Burroughs.  207 

Humming-Birds James  H.  Partridge.  211 

My  Aerial  Visitor Atlantic  Monthly.  215 

Rare  and  Beautiful  Nests John  BurrougJis.  218 

Bird-Ways Atlantic  Monthly.  220 

The  Bank-Swallow  Ernest  Ingersoll.  225 

Jays  and  their  Mission    Jared  P.  Kirtland.  229 

Summary  Justice Chambers^  Journal.  233 

The  Bird  of  Night Rev.' Samuel  Lockwood.  236 

The  Owl-Critic James  T.  Fields.  240 

PART   X. 

STRANGE  BIRDS  AND  THEIR  WA  TS. 

The  Flamingo 244 

Birds-of -Paradise James  H.  Partridge.  247 

Talking  Birds  and  their  Ways N.  S.  Dodge.  252 

The  Apteryx 257 


xvi  CONTENTS. 

PAOE 

The  Stork Hermann  Masius.     260 

Three  Views  of  the  Eagle 265 


PART   XI. 
0  UR  FO  UR-FO  0  TED   COMPANIONS. 

The  Pet  of  the  Household /.   W.  De  Forest.  271 

Our  Canine  Servants Chambers' s  Journal.  275 

Conscience  in  Animals G.  J.  Romanes.  283 

Puss  with  a  Mission J.  W.  De  Forest.  288 

Canine  Justice Chambers^  Journal.  289 

Helping  a  Friend Chambers^  Journal.  292 

Pierrot  the  Faithful Arsene  Homsaye.  293 

Emotional  Expression diaries  Darwin.  298 

To  Flush,  my  Dog Mrs.  Browning.  303 

PART  XII. 
OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS. 

How  Rats  Manage T.  W.  Higginson.  306 

The  Chipmunk  at  Home Charles  C.  Abbott.  310 

An  Excavator John  BurrougJis.  314 

Forest  Engineers T.  W.  Higginson  316 

Elephants,  and  how  they  are  Caught T.  W.  Higginson.  321 

The  Force  of  Instinct Mss  Cooper.  327 

Curious  Friendships Chambers^  Journal.  330 

The  Lion  and  the  Spaniel Henry  Brooke.  336 

Home  Life  of  Scottish  Deer Charles  Edward  Stuart.  338 

Deer-Stalking  in  the  Scottish  Highlands Charles  Edward  Stuart.  343 

PART  XIII. 

STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR   WATS. 

Musical  Mice Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood.  352 

Bats  and  their  Habits Prof.  Burt  G.  Wilder.  355 

The  Lemming  and  its  Migrations Temple  Bar.  358 

The  Coati  Mondi Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood.  362 

Jemmy Frank  Buckland.  369 


CONTENTS.  xvii 

PAGE 

The  Aard-vark From  the  French  of  Oustalet.  374 

The  Ornithorhynchus 377 

Grizzly Bret  ffarte.  380 

PAET  XIV. 

FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS. 

House-Pets  in  Trinidad Charles  Kingsley.  381 

The  Living  Bridge Adventures  in  the  Tropics.  384 

Jacko Frank  Auckland.  387 

PART  XV. 
ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

Our  Hunting- Lodge  and  Neighbors Charles  Edward  Stuart.  394 

The  Sloth Charles  Waterton.  401 

Illustrative  Stories 407 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"THE  GROVES  WERE  GOD'S  FIRST  TEMPLES."    (Frontispiece.') 

CLASPING  LEAVES  .  .  .  .  .  .17 

TENDRIL  HOOKS      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  18 

TENDRIL  COIL    ........       21 

COIL  AND  DISK       .......  22 

THE  PAPYRUS  .......       34 

THE  ROSE  OF  JERICHO       .  .  .  .  ...  36 

THE  TRAVELER'S  TREE  .  .  .  .  .  .40 

THE  BAOBAB-TREE  ......  43 

THE  BANYAN-TREE        .......      46 

THE  MEDUSA  .......  55 

SEA-ANEMONES  ........       59 

UPPER  AND  UNDER  VIEW  OF  STAR-FISH     ....  63 

SERPENT  STAR-FISH        .......       65 

CORAL  MADREPORE  .  .  .  .  .  .  67 

AN  ATOLL         .  .  .  .  *    .  .  .69 

CORAL  PORITE        .  .  .  ....  73 

EDIBLE  CRAB     ........       79 

FIDDLER-CRAB         .......  82 

HERMIT-CRAB     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .84 

THE  OCTOPUS          .......  87 

OCTOPUS  RUNNING         .  .  .  .  ...  .88 

THE  ANGLER-FISH  ......  92 

THE  TORPEDO    .  99 


xx  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

THE  SILK-WORM     .......  Ill 

MOSQUITOES       .            .            .            .            .            .            .  .125 

WARRIOR  TERMITES             .            .            .            .            .             .  130 

THE  PRAYING  MANTIS               .            .            .            .            .  .138 

ALLIGATORS  IN  FLORIDA  SWAMP    .                        ...  144 

THE  NILE  CROCODILE    .            .            .            .            .            .  .146 

THE  CHAMELEON     .            .            .            .            .            .            .  158 

A  FOREST  WARBLER     .            .            .            .            .            .  .179 

BOBOLINK                .......  192 

HUMMING-BlRDS                   .                 .                 .                 .                 .                 .  .216 

BANK-SWALLOWS  AND  THEIR  NESTS           .            .            ...  226 

A  GROUP  OF  OWLS       .                         .   >                     .            .  .     238 

FLAMINGO  AND  NEST          .            .            ,            .            .            .  245 

BIRD  OF  PARADISE        .             .  '       "...           .            .            .  .     249 

THE  APTERYX         .  ...  ...  .  .  .  '         258 

THE  STORK        ...            /          »            .            .  .261 

THE  EAGLE             .            .                    ^    .            .            .         '  .  266 

PIERROT  THE  FAITHFUL             .             .            .            .            .  .     295 

A  FIERCE  DOG        ....          ,-.            .            .  299 

AN  AFFECTIONATE  DOG             .            .            .            .            .  .     300 

A  CAT,  SAVAGE,  AND  READY  TO  FIGHT     .            .            .            .  302 

AN  AFFECTIONATE  CAT                          .            ...            .  .     303 

AMERICAN  CHIPMUNK          .            ,         ,   »            .            .            .  311 

BEAVER  DAM     ...            .            .            .            .             .  .317 

THE  STAG  .            *-.:".             .             .            .            .           £»  349 

THE  LEMMING,  OR  NORWAY  RAT          .....     359 

COATI-MONDI            .            .            .            .                        „            .  364 

COATI-MONDI  ASLEEP     .            .            .            .            .            .  .365 

THE  SURICATE  (JEMMY)      .            .            .            .            .            .  370 

THE  AARD-VARK           .                         .            .            .            .  .     376 

THE  ORNITHORHYNCHUS      ......  378 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


PART  I. 
HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR    WAYS. 


PRELUDE  TO    "A   FOREST    HYMN." 

1.  THE  groves  were  God's  first  temples.     Ere  man  learned 
To  hew  the  shaft,  and  lay  the  architrave, 

And  spread  the  roof  above  them, — ere  he  framed 
The  lofty  vault,  to  gather  and  roll  back 
The  sound  of  anthems  ;  in  the  darkling  wood, 
Amid  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down, 
And  offered  to  the  Mightiest  solemn  thanks 
And  supplication. 

2.  For  his  simple  heart 
Might  not  resist  the  sacred  influences 
Which,  from  the  stilly  twilight  of  the  place, 

And  from  the  gray  old  trunks  that  high  in  heaven 
Mingled  their  mossy  boughs,  and  from  the  sound 
Of  the  invisible  breath  that  swayed  at  once 
All  their  green  tops,  stole  over  him,  and  bowed 
His  spirit  with  the  thought  of  boundless  power 
And  inaccessible  majesty. 


2  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

3.  Ah,  why 

Should  we,  in  the  world's  riper  years,  neglect 

God's  ancient  sanctuaries,  and  adore 

Only  among  the  crowd,  and  under  roofs 

That  our  frail  hands  have  raised  ?     Let  me,  at  least, 

Here,  in  the  shadow  of  this  aged  wood, 

Offer  one  hymn — thrice  happy,  if  it  find 

Acceptance  in  His  ear. 

Bryant. 


THE  PRIDE  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

1.  ABOVE  all  the  trees  of  the  New  World,  the  elm  de- 
serves to  be  considered  the  sovereign  tree  of  New  England. 
It  is  abundant  both  in  field  and  forest,  and  forms  the  most 
remarkable  feature  in  our  cleared  and  cultivated  grounds. 
Though  the  elm  is  found  in  almost  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, in  no  other  is  it  so  conspicuous  as  in  the  Northeastern 
States,  where,  from  the  earliest  settlement  of  the  country, 
it  has  been  planted  as  a  shade- tree,  and  has  been  valued  as 
an  ornament  above  the  proudest  importations  from  a  foreign 
clime.     It  is  the  most  remarkable  of  the  drooping  trees  ex- 
cept the  willow,  which  it  surpasses  in  stateliness  and  in  the 
variety  of  its  growth. 

2.  When  I  look  upon  a  noble  elm,  though  I  feel  no  dis- 
position to  condemn  the  studies  of  those  who  examine  its 
flowers  and  fruit  with  the  scrutinizing  eye  of  science,  or  the 
calculations  of  those  who  consider  only  its  practical  use,  it 
is  to  me  an  object  of  pleasing  veneration.     I  look  upon  it 
as  the  embodiment  of  some  benign  intention  of  Providence, 
who  has  adapted  it  in  numerous  ways  to  the  wants  of  his 
creatures.     While  admiring  its  grace  and  majesty,  I  think 
of  the  great  amount  of  human  happiness  and  of  comfort  to 
the  inferior  animals  of  which  it  has  been  the  blessed  in- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR    WA  YS.  3 

strument.  How  many  a  happy  assemblage  of  children  and 
young  persons  has  been,  during  the  past  century,  repeated- 
ly gathered  under  its  shade  in  the  sultry  noons  of  summer  ! 
How  many  a  young  May-Queen  has  been  crowned  under  its 
roof,  when  the  greensward  was  just  daisied  with  the  early 
flowers  of  spring  !  And  how  many  a  weary  traveler  has 
rested  from  his  journey  in  its  benevolent  shade,  and,  from 
a  state  of  weariness  and  vexation,  when  o'erspent  by  heat 
and  length  of  way,  has  subsided  into  one  of  quiet  thank- 
fulness and  content ! 

3.  Though  the  elm  has  never  been  consecrated  by  the 
Muse,  or  dignified  by  making  a  figure  in  the  paintings  of 
the  old  masters,  the  native  inhabitant  of  New  England 
associates  its  varied  forms  with  all  that  is  delightful  in 
the  scenery  of  his  own  land,  or  memorable  in  its  history. 
He  has  beheld  many  a  noble  avenue  formed  of  elms,  when 
standing  in  rows  in  the  village,  or  by  the  rustic  road-side. 
He  has  seen  them  extending  their  broad  and  benevolent 
arms  as  a  protection  over  many  a  spacious  old  farm-house 
and  many  an  humble  cottage,  and  equally  harmonizing 
with  all.  They  meet  his  sight  in  the  public  grounds  of 
the  city,  with  their  ample  shade  and  flowing  spray,  invit- 
ing him  to  linger  under  their  pleasant  umbrage  in  sum- 
mer ;  and  in  winter  he  has  beheld  them  among  the  rude 
hills  and  mountains,  like  spectral  figures  keeping  sentry 
among  their  passes,  and,  on  the  waking  of  the  year,  sud- 
denly transformed  into  towers  of  luxuriant  verdure  and 
beauty.  Every  year  of  his  life  has  he  seen  the  beautiful 
hang-bird  weave  his  pensile  habitation  upon  the  long  and 
flexible  branches  of  the  elm,  secure  from  the  reach  of 
every  living  creature.  From  its  vast  dome  of  interwoven 
branches  and  foliage  he  has  listened  to  the  songs  of  the 
earliest  and  latest  birds  ;  and  under  its  shelter  he  has 
witnessed  many  a  merry-making  assemblage  of  children, 
employed  in  the  sportive  games  of  summer. 


4  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

4.  To   a  native   of   New  England,  therefore,   the  elm 
has  a  value  more  nearly  approaching  that  of  sacredness 
than  any  other  tree.     Setting  aside  the  pleasure  derived 
from  it  as  an  object  of  visual  heauty,  it  is  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  the  familiar  scenes  of  home  and  the  events  of 
his  early  life.     In  my  own  mind  it  is  pleasingly  allied  with 
those   old  dwelling-houses   which   were  built  in  the  early 
part  of  the  last  century,  and  form  one  of  the  marked  feat- 
ures of  New  England  home  architecture  during  that  pe- 
riod.    They  are  known  by  their  broad  and  ample,  but  low- 
studded  rooms,  their  numerous  windows  with  small  panes, 
their  single  chimney  in  the  center  of  the  roof,  that  sloped 
down  to  the  lower  story  in  the  back  part,   and,  in  their 
general  unpretending  appearance,  reminding  one  vividly  of 
that  simplicity  of  life~Tvhich  characterized  our  people  be- 
fore the  revolution.     Their  very  homeliness  is  delightful, 
by  leaving  the  imagination  free  to  dwell  upon  their  pleas- 
ing suggestions.     Not  many  of  these  charming  old  houses 
are  now  extant ;  but  whenever  we  see  one,  we  are  almost 
sure  to  find  it  accompanied  by  its  elm,  standing  upon  the 
green  open  space  that  slopes  up  to  it  in  front,  and  wav- 
ing its  long  branches  in  melancholy  grandeur  over  the  ven- 
erable habitation  which  it  seems  to  have  taken  under  its 
protection,  while  it  droops  with  sorrow  over  the  infirmi- 
ties of  its  old  companion  of  a  century. 

5.  The  elm  is  remarkable  for  the  variety  of  forms  which 
it  assumes  in  different  situations.     Often  it  has  a  droop- 
ing spray  only  when  it  has  attained  a  large  size ;  but  it 
almost  invariably  becomes   subdivided   into   several  equal 
branches,  diverging  from  a  common  center,  at  a  consid- 
erable elevation  from  the  ground.     One  of  these  forms  is 
that  of  a  vase,  the  base  being  represented  by  the  roots  of 
the  tree  that  project  above  the  soil  and  join  the  trunk, 
the  middle  by  the  lower  part  of  the  principal  branches,  as 
they  swell  out  with  a  graceful  curve,  then  gradually  di- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.  5 

verge,  until  they  bend  downward  and  form  the  lip  of  the 
vase  by  their  circle  of  terminal  branches.  Another  of  its 
forms  is  that  of  a  vast  dome,  as  represented  by  those  trees 
that  send  up  a  single  shaft  to  the  height  of  twenty  feet  or 
more,  and  then  extend  their  branches  at  a  wide  divergency, 
and  to  a  great  length.  The  elms  which  are  remarkable  for 
their  drooping  character  are  usually  of  this  shape. 

6.  At  other  times  the  elm  assumes  the  shape  of  a  plume, 
presenting  a  singularly  fantastical  appearance.     It  rises  up- 
ward, with  an  undivided  shaft,  to  the  height  of  fifty  feet  or 
more,  without  a  limb,  and  bending  over  with  a  gradual 
curve  from  about  the  middle  of  its  height  to  its  summit, 
which  is  sometimes  divided  into  two   or   three   terminal 
branches.     The  whole  is  covered,  from  its  roots  to  its  sum- 
mit, with  a  fringe  of  vine-like  twigs,  extremely  slender, 
twisted,  and  irregular,  and  resembling  a  parasitic  growth. 
Sometimes  it  is  subdivided  at  the  usual  height  into  three  or 
four  long  branches,  which  are  wreathed  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  form  a  compound  plume. 

7.  Unlike  other  trees  that  send  up  a  single  undivided 
shaft,  the  elm,  when  growing  in  the  forest,  as  well  as  in  the 
open  plain,  becomes  subdivided  into  several  slightly  diver- 
gent  branches,  running  up  almost  perpendicularly  until 
they  reach  the  level  of  the  tree-tops,  when  they  suddenly 
spread  themselves  out,  and  the  tree  exhibits  the  parasol 
shape  more  nearly  even  than  the  palm.    When  one  of  these 
forest  elms  is  left  by  the  woodman,  arid  is  seen  standing 
alone  in  the  clearing,  it  presents  to  our  sight  one  of  the 
most  graceful  and  beautiful  of  all  arborescent  forms. 

Atlantic  MontUy. 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


HOW    PLANTS  TRAVEL 

1.  PLANTS  have  both  life  and  motion  ;  we  dare  not  as 
yet  say  whether  it  be  the  effect  of  a  mere  dream,  of  a  me- 
chanical pressure  from  without,  or  of  instinctive  life  with- 
in.    For  what  do  we  as  yet  know  of  the  simplest  functions 
of  the  inner  life  of  plants  ?    Who  has  not,  however,  ob- 
served how  the  pale  sap  courses  through  the  colossal  stems 
of  gigantic  trees  and  the  delicate  veins  of  a  frail  leaf,  as 
rapidly   and   marvelously   as   through  the  body  of  man  ? 
Take  a  microscope,  and  you  will  see  the  plant  full  of  life 
and  motion.     All  its  minute  cells  are  filled  with  countless 
little  currents,  now  rotary  and  now  up  and  down,  often 
even  apparently  lawless,  but  always  distinctly  marked  by 
tiny  grains  which  are  seen  to  turn  in  them  or  to  rise  with- 
out ceasing. 

2.  But  plants  move  not  only  where  they  stand,  they 
travel  also.     They  migrate  from  land  to  land,  sometimes 
slowly,  inch  by  inch,  then  again  on  the  wings  of  the  storm. 
Botanists  tell  us  of  actual  migrations  of  plants,  and  a  suc- 
cessive extension  of  the  domain  of  particular  floras,  just  as 
we  speak  of  the  migration  of  idioms  and  races.     Individual 
plants,  however,  travel  only  as  man  ought  to  travel,  when 
they  are  young.     If  they  have  once  found  a  home,  they 
settle  quietly  down,  grow,  blossom,  and  bear  fruit.     There- 
fore it  is  that  plants  travel  only  in  the  seed.    For  this  pur- 
pose, seeds  possess  often  special  organs  for  a  long  journey 
through  the  air. 

3.  Sometimes  they  are  put,  like  small  bomb-shells,  into 
little  mortars,   and  fired  off  with  great  precision.     Thus 
arise  the  well-known  emerald  rings  on  our  greenswards,  and 
on  the  vast  prairies  of  the  West,  which  some  ascribe  to  elec- 
tricity, while  the  poet  loves  to  see  in  them  traces  of  the 
moonlight  revels  of  fairies.     The  truth  is  scarcely  less  po- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WA  Y8.  7 

etical.  A  small  circular  fungus  squats  down  on  a  nice  bit 
of  turf  ;  it  prospers,  and  fills  with  ripening  seed  ;  when  it 
matures,  it  discharges  the  tiny  balls  already  mentioned  in 
a  circle  all  around,  and  then  sinks  quietly  in  the  ground 
and  dies.  Another  season,  and  its  place  is  marked  by  an 
abundance  of  luxuriant  grass,  feeding  upon  its  remains, 
while  around  it  a  whole  ring  of  young  fungi  have  begun  to 
flourish.  They  die  in  their  turn,  and  so  the  circle  goes  on 
enlarging  and  enlarging,  shifting  rapidly,  because  the  fungi 
exhaust  the  soil  soon  of  all  matter  necessary  for  their 
growth,  and  closely  followed  by  the  rich  grass  that  fills  up 
their  place  and  prevents  them  from  ever  retracing  their 
steps. 

4.  A  similar  irritability  enables  other  plants  also  to  scat- 
ter their  seeds  far  and  near,  by  means  of  springs  bent  back, 
until  a  breath  of  wind,  a  falling  leaf,  or  the  wing  of  an  in- 
sect, causes  them  to  rebound,  and  thus  to  send  the  pollen 
with  which  they  are  loaded  often  to  a  great  distance.     The 
so-called  touch-me-not  balsam  scatters  its  ripe  seeds,  by 
such  a  contrivance,  in  all  directions,  and  the  squirting  cu- 
cumber is  furnished,  for  the  same  purpose,  with  a  complete 
fire-engine.     Some  of  the  geraniums,  also,  of  our  green- 
houses  have   their   fruit-vessels   so   curiously   constructed 
that  the  mere  contact  with  another  object,  and  frequently 
the  heat  of  the  sun  alone,  suffices  to  detach  the  carpels,  one 
by  one,  with  a  snapping  sound,  and  so  suddenly  as  to  cause 
a  considerable  jerk,  which  sends  the  seeds  far  away. 

5.  Other  fruit-vessels,  again,  have,  as  is  well  known, 
contrivances   the   most   curious   and   ingenious  by   which 
they  press  every  living  thing  that  comes  near  them  into 
their  service,  and  make  it  convey  them  whithersoever  they 
please.     Everybody  is  familiar  with  the  bearded  varieties 
of  wheat  and  other  grain  ;  they  are  provided  with  the  little 
hooks  which  they  cunningly  insert  into  the  wool  or  hair  of 
grazing  cattle,  and  thus  they  are  carried  about  until  they 


8  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

find  a  pleasant  place  for  their  future  home.  Some,  who  do 
not  like  to  obtain  services  thus  by  hook  and  crook,  succeed 
by  pretended  friendship,  sticking  closely  to  their  self -chosen 
companions.  They  cover  their  little  seeds  with  a  most  ad- 
hesive glue,  and  when  the  busy  bee  comes  to  gather  honey 
from  their  sweet  blossoms,  which  they  jauntily  hang  out  to 
catch  the  unwary  insect,  the  seeds  adhere  to  its  body,  and 
travel  thus  on  four  fine  wings  through  the  wide,  wide 
world.  Bee-fanciers  know  very  well  the  common  disease 
of  their  sweet  friends,  when  so  much  pollen  adheres  to  their 
head  that  they  can  not  fly,  and  most  miserably  perish,  one 
by  one,  under  the  heavy  burden  which  these  innocent-look- 
ing plants  have  compelled  them  to  carry. 

6.  We  have  but  little  knowledge  as  yet  of  the  activity 
of  life  in  the  vegetable  world,  and  of  its  momentous  influ- 
ence on  the  welfare  of  our  own  race.     Few  only  know  that 
the  gall-fly  of  Asia  Minor  decides  on  the  existence  of  ten 
thousands  of  human  beings.     As  our  clippers  and  steamers 
carry  the  produce  of  the  land  from  continent  to  continent, 
so  these  tiny  sailors  of  the  air  perform,  under  the  direction 
of  Divine  Providence,  the  important  duty  of  carrying  pol- 
len, or  fertilizing  dust,  from  fig-tree  to  fig-tree.     Without 
pollen  there  come  no  figs  ;  and,  consequently,  on  their  ac- 
tivity  and   number    depend   the   productiveness   of   these 
trees;  they  therefore  regulate,  in  fact,  the  extensive  and 
profitable  fig  trade  of  Smyrna. 

7.  When  neither  quadruped  nor  insect  can  be  coaxed  or 
forced  to  transport  the  young  seeds  that. wish  to  see  the 
world,  they  sometimes  launch  forth  on  their  own  account, 
and  trust  to  a  gentle  breeze  or  a  light  current  of  air  rising 
from  the  heated  surface  of  the  earth.     It  is  true,  nature 
has  given  them  wings  to  fly  with,  such  as  man  never  yet 
was  skillful  enough  to  devise  for  his  own  use.     The  maple 
— our  maple,  I  mean — has  genuine  little  wings  with  which 
it  flies  merrily  about  in  its  early  days  ;  others,  like  the  dan- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WATS.  9 

delion  and  the  anemone,  have  light  downy  appendages,  or 
little  feathery  tufts  and  crowns,  by  which  they  are  floated 
along  on  the  lightest  breath  of  air,  and  enjoy,  to  their 
hearts'  content,  long  autumnal  wanderings.  These  airy  ap- 
pendages are  marvelously  well  adapted  for  the  special  pur- 
pose of  each  plant — some  but  just  large  enough  to  waft  the 
tiny  grain  up  the  height  of  a  mole-hill,  others  strong  enough 
to  carry  the  seed  of  the  cedar  from  the  low  valley  to  the 
summit  of  Mount  Lebanon. 

8.  The  proudest  princes  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  often 
depend  for  their  continuance  on  these  little  feathery  tufts, 
which  but  few  observers  are  apt  to  notice.     A  recent  writer 
tells  us  that,  a  few  years  ago,  the  only  palm-tree  the  city 
of  Paris  could  then  boast  of  suddenly  bore  fruit.     Botan- 
ists were  at  a  loss  how  to  explain  the  apparent  miracle,  and 
skeptics  began  to  sneer,  and  declared  that  the  laws  of  na- 
ture had  failed.     An  advertisement  appeared  in  the  papers, 
inquiring  for  the  unknown  mate  of  the  solitary  tree.     And 
behold,  in  an  obscure  court-yard  away  off,  there  had  lived, 
unknown  and  unnoticed,  another  small  palm  ;  it  also  had 
blossomed   apparently  alone,  and   in  vain  —  but  a  gentle 
breeze  had  come,  and  carried  its  flower-dust  to  its  distant 
companion,  and  the  first  palm-fruit  ever  seen  in  France 
was  the  result  of  this  silent  mediation. 

9.  Reckless  wanderers,  also,  there  are  among  the  plants, 
who  waste  their  substance,  and  wildly  rove  about  the  world. 
The  rose  of  Jericho,  and  a  club-moss  of  "Peru,  are  such  er- 
ratic idlers  that  wander  from  land  to  land.     When  they 
have  blossomed  and  borne  fruit,  and  when  the  dry  season 
comes,  they  wither,  fold  their  leaves  together,  and  draw  up 
their  roots,  so  as  to  form  a  light,  little  ball.     In  this  form 
they  are  driven  hither  and  thither  on  the  wings  of  the  wind, 
rolling  along  the  plains  in  spirit-like  dance,  now  whirling 
in  great  circles  about,  now  caught  by  an  eddy  and  rising 
suddenly  high  into  the  air.    It  is  not  until  they  reach  a  moist 


10  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

place  that  they  care  to  rest  awhile,  but  then  they  settle 
down  at  once,  send  down  their  roots,  unfold  their  leaves, 
assume  a  bright  green,  and  become  quiet,  useful  citizens  in 
their  own  great  kingdom  of  plants. 

10.  Seeds  that  have  not  learned  to  fly  with  their  own  or 
other  people's  wings,  it  seems  are  taught  to  swim.     Trees 
and  bushes  which  bear  nuts  love  low  grounds  and  river- 
banks.     Why  ?     Because  their  fruit  is  shaped  like  a  small 
boat,  and  the  rivulet,  playing  with  its  tiny  ripples  over  sil- 
ver sands,  as  well  as  the  broad  wave  of  the  Pacific,  carry 
their  seed  alike,  safely  and  swiftly,  to  new  homes.     Rivers 
float  down  the  fruits  of  mountain  regions  into  deep  valleys 
and  to  far-off  coasts,  and  the  Gulf  Stream  of  our  Atlantic 
carries  annually  the  rich  products  of  the  torrid  zone  of 
America  to   the   distant   shores   of  Iceland  and  Norway. 
Seeds  of  plants  growing  in  Jamaica  and  Cuba  have  been 
gathered  in  the  quiet  coves  of  the  Hebrides. 

11.  But  we  need  not  go  to  far-off  countries  to  see  plants 
wandering  about  in  the  world  :  our  own  gardens  afford  us, 
though  on  a  smaller  scale,  many  an  instance  of  the  reckless- 
ness of  those  very  plants  that  are  so  much  commiserated 
because  they  can  not  move  about  and  choose  their  own  home. 
Every  casual  observer  even  knows  that  many  bulbs,  like 
those  of  crocus,  tulips,  or  narcissus,  rise  or  sink  by  form- 
ing new  bulbs  above  or  below,  until  they  have  reached 
the  proper  depth  of  soil  which  best  suits  their  constitution 
— or  perhaps  their  fancy.     Some  orchids  have  a  regular 
locomotion  :  the  old  root  dies,  the  new  one  forms  invaria- 
bly in  one  and  the  same  direction,  and  thus  they  proceed 
onward  year  after  year,  though  at  a  very  modest,  stage- 
coach rate.     Strawberries,  on  the  contrary,  put  on  seven- 
league  boots,  and  often  escape  from  the  rich  man's  garden 
to  refresh  the  weary  traveler  by  the  wayside.     Raspberries, 
again,  mine  their  way  stealthily  under  ground  by  a  sub- 
terranean, mole-like  process ;  blind  but  not  unguided,  for 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  H 

they  are  sure  to  turn  up  in  the  brightest,  sunniest  spot 
they  could  have  chosen  had  their  eyes  been  wide  open  and 
their  proceedings  above  ground. 

M.  Schele  de  Vere. 


TWINING    PLANTS. 

1.  CLIMBING  plants  are,  first  of  all,  divided  roughly 
into  those  which  twine  and   those  which  do  not  twine ; 
twiners  are  represented  by  the  hop  and  the  honeysuckle, 
and  all  those  plants  which  climb  up  a  stick  by  winding 
spirally  round  it.     Those  which  are  not  twiners — that  is, 
which  do  not  wind  spirally  round  a  stick — are  such  as  sup- 
port themselves  by  seizing  hold  of  any  neighboring  object 
with  various  kinds  of  grasping  organs  ;  these  may  be  simple 
hooks,  or  adhering  roots,  or  they  may  be  elaborate  and  sen- 
sitive tendrils,  which  seize  hold  of  a  stick  with  a  rapidity 
more  like  the  action  of  an  animal  than  of  a  plant.     I  wish 
now  to  insist  on  the  importance  of  distinguishing  between 
these  two  methods  of  climbing,  in  one  of  which  the  plant 
ascends  a  support  by  traveling  spirally  round  it ;  in  the 
other,  fixes  on  to  the  support  by  seizing  it  at  one  place,  and 
continuing  to  seize  it  higher  and  higher  up  as  its  stem  in- 
creases in  length. 

2.  I  have  heard  the  curator  of  a  foreign  botanic  garden 
bitterly  complain  of  his  gardeners  that 'they  never  could 
learn  the  difference  between  these  two  classes  of  climbing 
plants,  and  that  they  would  only  give  a  few  bare  sticks  to 
some  tendril-bearing  plant,  expecting  it  to  twine  up  them 
like  a  hop,  while  the  plant  really  wanted  a  twiggy  branch, 
up  which  it  might  creep,  seizing  a  twig  with  each  of  its 
delicate  tendrils,  as  it  climbed  higher  and  higher.     These 
two  kinds  of  climbers — twiners  and  non-twiners — may  be 
seen  growing  up  their  appropriate  supports  in  any  kitchen- 


12  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

garden,  where  the  scarlet-runners  twine  spirally  up  tall 
sticks,  while  the  peas  clamber  up  the  bushy  branches  stuck 
in  rows  in  the  ground. 

3.  A  hop-plant  will  supply  a  good  example  of  the  mode 
of  growth  of  true  twining  plants.     Let  us  imagine  that  we 
have  a  young  hop-plant  growing  in  a  pot ;  we  will  suppose 
that  it  has  no  stick  to  twine  up,  and  that  its  pot  stands  in 
some  open  place  where  there  are  no  other  plants  to  interfere 
with  it.     A  long,  thin  shoot  will  grow  out,  and,  not  being 
strong  enough  to  support  itself  in  the  upright  position,  will 
bend  over  to  one  side.     So  far  we  have  not  discovered  any- 
thing remarkable  about  our  hop ;  it  has  sent  out  a  strag- 
gling shoot,  which  has  behaved  as  might  be  expected,  by 
falling  over  to  one  side.     But  now,  if  we  watch  the  hop- 
plant  closely,  a  very  remarkable  thing  will  be  seen  to  take 
place. 

4.  Supposing  that  we  have  noticed  the  shoot,  when  it 
began  to  bend  over,  pointed  toward  the  window — say  a 
north  window — and  that,  when  we  next  look  at  it  after 
some  hours,  it  points  into  the  room,  that  is  to  say,  south, 
and  again  north  after  another  interval,  we  shall  have  dis- 
covered the  curious  fact  that  the  hop-plant  has  a  certain 
power  of  movement  by  which  its  shoot  may  sometimes 
point  in  one  direction,  sometimes  in  another.     But  this  is 
only  half  the  phenomenon,  and,  if  we  examine  closely,  we 
shall  find  that  the  movement  is  constant  and  regular,  the 
stem  first  pointing  north,  then  east,  then  south,  then  west, 
in  regular  succession,  so  that  its  tip  is  constantly  traveling 
round  and  round  like  the  hand  of  a  watch,  making  on  an 
average,  in  warm  August  weather,  one  revolution  in  two 
hours.     Here,  then,  is  a  most  curious  power  possessed  by 
the  shoots  of  twining  plants,  which  is  worth  inquiring  fur- 
ther into,  both  as  regards  the  way  in  which  the  movement 
is  produced,  and  as  to  how  it  can  be  of  any  service  to  the 
plant. 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  13 

5.  Questions  are  often  asked  in  gardening  periodicals  as 
to  how  hops  or  other  climbing  plants  always  manage  to 
grow  precisely  in  the  direction  in  which  they  will  find  a 
support.     This   fact   has   surprised   many  observers,   who 
have  supposed  that  climbing  plants  have  some  occult  sense 
by  which  they  discover  the  whereabouts  of  the  stick  up 
which  they  subsequently  climb.     But  there  is  in  reality  no 
kind  of  mystery  in  the  matter  :  the  growing  shoot  simply 
goes  swinging  round  till  it  meets  with  a  stick,  and  then  it 
climbs  up  it.     Now,  a  revolving  shoot  may  be  more  than 
two  feet  long,  so  that  it  might  be  detained  in  its  swinging- 
round  movements  by  a  stick  fixed  into  the  ground  at  a  dis- 
tance of  nearly  two  feet.     There  would  then  be  a  straight 
bit  of  stem  leading  from  the  roots  of  the  plant  in  a  straight 
line  to  the  stick  up  which  it  twines,  so  that  an  observer 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  swinging -round  movement  might 
be  pardoned  for  supposing  that  the  plant  had  in  some  way 
perceived  the  stick  and  grown  straight  at  it.     This  same 
power  of  swinging  round  slowly  comes  into  play  in  the  very 
act  of  climbing  up  a  stick. 

6.  Suppose  I  take  a  rope  and  swing  it  round  my  head  : 
that  may  be  taken  to  represent  the  revolving  of  the  young 
hop-shoot.     If,  now,  I  allow  it  to  strike  against  a  rod,  the 
end  of  the  rope  which  projects  beyond  the  rod  curls  freely 
round  it  in  a  spiral.     And  this  may  be  taken  as  a  rough 
representation  of  what  a  climbing  plant  does  when  it  meets 
a  stick  placed  in  its  way.     That  is  to  say,  the  part  of  the 
shoot  which  projects  beyond  the  stick  continues  to  curl  in- 
ward till  it  comes  against  the  stick ;  and,  as  growth  goes 
on,  the  piece  of  stem  which  is  projecting  is,  of  course,  all 
the  while  getting  longer  and  longer  ;  and,  as  it  is  continu- 
ally trying  to  keep  up  the  swinging-round  movement,  it 
manages  to  curl  round  the  stick.     But  there  is  a  difference 
between  the  rope  and  the  plant  in  this — that  the  rope  curls 
round  the  stick  at  the  same  level  as  that  at  which  it  is 


14  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

swung,  so  that,  if  it  moves  round  in  a  horizontal  plane  at 
aimiform  height  above  ground,  it  will  curl  round  the  stick 
at  that  level,  and  thus  will  not  climb  up  the  stick  it  strikes 
against.  But  the  climbing  plant,  although  it  may  swing 
round,  when  searching  for  a  stick,  at  a  fairly  uniform  level, 
yet,  when  it  curls  round  a  stick,  does  not  retain  a  uniform 
distance  from  the  ground,  but  by  winding  round  like  a 
corkscrew  it  gets  higher  and  higher  at  each  turn. 

7.  As  plants  have  no  muscles,  all  their  movements  are 
produced  by  unequal  growth  ;  that  is,  by  one  half  of  an 
organ  growing  in  length  quicker  than  the  opposite  half. 
Now,  the  difference  between  the  growth  of  a  twining  plant 
which  bends  over  to  one  side  and  an  ordinary  plant  which 
grows  straight  up  in  the  air  lies  in  this,  that  in  the  upright 
shoot  the  growth  is  nearly  equal  on  all  sides  at  once,  where- 
as the  twining  plant  is  always  growing  much  quicker  on 
one  side  than  the  other. 

8.  It  may  be  shown  by  means  of  a  simple  model  how 
unequal  growth  can  be  converted  into  revolving  movement. 
The  stem  of  a  young  hop  is  represented  by  a  flexible  rod,  of 
which  the  lower  end  is  fixed,  the  upper  one  being  free  to 
move.     At  first  the  rod  is  supposed  to  be  growing  vertically 
upward,  but  when  it  begins  to  twine  one  side  begins  to 
grow  quicker  than  any  of  the  others  :  suppose  the  right 
side  to  do  so,  the  result  will  be  that  the  rod  will  bend  over 
toward  the  left  side.      Now,  let  the   region  of  quickest 
growth  change,  and  let  the  left  side  begin  to  grow  quicker 
than  all  the  others,  then  the  rod  will  be  forced  to  bend  back 
over  to  the  other  side.     Thus,  by  an  alternation  of  growth, 
the  rod  will  bend  backward  and  forward  from  right  to  left. 

9.  But  now  imagine  that  the  growth  of  the  rod  on  the 
sides  nearest  to  and  farthest  from  us  enters  into  the  com- 
bination, and  that,  after  the  right  side  has  been  growing 
quickest  for  a  time,  the  far  side  takes  it  up,  then  the  rod 
will  not  bend  straight  back  toward  the  right,  as  it  did  be- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  15 

fore,  but  will  bend  to  the  near  side.  Now  the  old  move- 
ment, caused  by  the  left  side  growing  quickest,  will  come 
in  again,  to  be  followed  by  the  near  side  growing  quick- 
est. Thus,  by  a  regular  succession  of  growth  on  all  the 
sides,  one  after  another,  the  swinging-round  movement  is 
produced,  and  by  a  continuation  of  this  action,  as  I  have 
explained,  the  twining  movement  is  produced. 

10.  I  have  spoken  as  if  the  question  of  how  plants  twine 
were  a  completely  solved  problem,  and  in  a  certain  sense  it 
is  so.  I  think  that  the  explanation  which  I  have  given  will 
remain  as  the  fundamental  statement  of  the  case.  But 
there  is  still  much  to  be  made  out.  We  do  not  in  the  least 
know  why  every  single  hop-plant  in  a  field  twines  like  a 
left-handed  screw,  while  every  single  plant  in  a  row  of 
beans  twines  the  other  way  ;  nor  why  in  some  rare  instances 
a  species  is  divided,  like  the  human  race,  into  right-  and 
left-handed  individuals,  some  twining  like  a  lext-handed, 
others  like  a  right-handed  screw.  Or,  again,  why  some 
very  few  plants  will  twine  half-way  up  a  stick  in  one  direc- 
tion, and  then  reverse  the  spiral  and  wind  the  other  way. 
Nor,  though  we  know  that  in  all  these  plants  the  twining 
is  caused  by  the  change  in  the  region  of  quickest  growth, 
have  we  any  idea  what  causes  this  change  of  growth. 

Francis  Darwin. 


HOOK-CLIMBERS. 

1.  THE  common  bramble  climbs  or  scrambles  up  through 
thick  underwood,  being  assisted  by  the  recurved  spines 
which  allow  the  rapidly  growing  shoot  to  creep  upward  as 
it  lengthens,  but  prevent  it  from  slipping  backward  again  ; 
the  common  goose-grass  ( Galium)  also  climbs  in  this  way, 
sticking  like  a  burr  to  the  side  of  a  hedge-row  up  which  it 
climbs.  Most  country  boys  will  remember  having  taken 


16  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

advantage  of  this  burr-like  quality  of  Galium  in  making 
sham  birds'  nests,  the  prickly  stems  adhering  together  in 
the  desired  form.  Such  plants  as  the  bramble  or  Galium 
exhibit  none -of  the  swinging-round  movement  of  climbers  : 
they  simply  grow  straight  on,  trusting  to  their  hooks  to  re- 
tain the  position  gained. 

2.  In  some  species  of  clematis  we  find  a  mechanism 
which  reminds  one  of  a  simple  hook-climber,  but  is  in  real- 
ity a  much  better  arrangement.     The  }  oung  leaves  project- 
ing outward  and  slightly  backward  from  the  stem  may  re- 
mind us  of  the  hooked  spines  of  a  bramble,  and,  like  them, 
easily  catch  on  neighboring  objects,  and  support  the  trailing 
stem.     Or  the  leaf  of  a  species  of  clematis  may  serve  as  an 
example  of  a  leaf  acting  like  a  hook.     The  main  stalk  of 
the  leaf  is  bent  angularly  downward  at  the  points  where 
each  successive  pair  of  leaflets  is  attached,  and  the  leaflet  at 
the  end  of  the  leaf  is  bent  down  at  right  angles,  and  thus 
forms  a  grappling  apparatus. 

3.  The  clematis  does  not,  like  the  bramble,  trust  to  mere 
growth  to  thrust  itself  among  tangled  bushes,  but  possesses 
the  same  powers  of  revolving  in  search  of  a  support  which 
simple  or  true  twining  plants  possess.   Indeed,  many  species 
of  clematis  are  actually  twining  plants,  and  can  wind  spi- 
rally up  a  stick  placed  in  their  way.     And  the  same  revolv- 
ing movement  which  enables  them  thus  to  wind  spirally 
also  helps  them  to  search  for  some  holding-place  for  their 
hook-  or  grapple-like  leaves,  and  in  many  species  the  search 
is  carried  on  by  the  leaves  swinging  round,  quite  independ- 
ently of  the  revolving  movement  of  the  stem  on  which  they 
are  borne. 

4.  If  a  leaf  of  a  clematis  succeed  by  any  means  in  hook- 
ing on  to  a  neighboring  object,  the  special  characteristic  of 
leaf -climbing  plants  comes  into  play.     The  stalk  of  the  leaf 
curls  strongly  over  toward  the  object  touching  it,  and  clasps 
it  firmly.     It  is  obvious  how  great  is  the  advantage  thus 


HONE  PLANTS  AND    THEIR  WAYS.  17 

gained  over  a  mere  hook.  A  leaf  might  be  made  to  catch 
on  to  a  neighboring  twig  by  its  bent  stalk  in  such  a  way 
that,  although  it  managed  to  stay  where  it  was,  it  could 


Clasping  Leaves. 

bear  none  of  the  weight  of  the  plant,  and  would  be  liable  to 
be  displaced  by  a  strong  wind  or  other  disturbance.  But 
when  the  stalk  of  the  leaf  has  curled  round  the  twig,  noth- 
ing could  displace  it,  and  it  could  take  its  share  in  the  work 
of  sustaining  tne  plant. 

5.  The  genus  Tropceolum,  whose  cultivated  species  are 
often  called  nasturtiums,  also  consists  of  leaf-climbing 
plants,  which  climb  like  clematis  by  grasping  neighboring 
objects  with  their  leaf-stalks.  In  some  species  we  find 
climbing  organs  developed,  which  can  not  logically  be  dis- 
tinguished from  tendrils  ;  they  consist  of  little  filaments, 
not  green  like  a  leaf,  but  colored  like  the  stem.  Their 
tips  are  a  little  flattened  and  furrowed,  but  never  develop 
into  leaves  ;  and  these  filaments  are  sensitive  to  a  touch, 
and  bend  toward  a  touching  object,  which  they  clasp  se- 
curely. Filaments  of  this  kind  are  borne  by  the  young 
plant,  but  it  subsequently  produces  filaments  with  slightly 


18  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

enlarged  ends,  then  with  rudimentary  or  dwarfed  leaves, 
and  finally  with  full-sized  leaves  ;  when  these  are  developed 
they  clasp  with  their  leaf -stalks,  and  then  the  first-formed 
filaments  wither  and  die  off ;  thus  the  plant,  which  in  its 
youth  was  a  tendril-climber,  gradually  develops  into  a  true 
leaf-climber.  During  the  transition,  every  gradation  be- 
tween a  leaf  and  a  tendril  may  be  seen  on  the  same  plant. 

6.  The  family  of  the  Biynonias  is  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting of  the  class  of  tendril-climbers,  on  account  of  the 

variety  of  adaptation  which  is  found 
among  them.     In  one  species  the  leaf 
bears  a  pair  of  leaflets,  and  ends  in  a 
tendril   having  three  branches.      The 
main  tendril  may   be  compared   to  a 
bird's  leg  with  three  toes,  each  bear- 
ing a  small  claw.     And  this  compari- 
son seems  apt  enough,  for,  when  the 
tendril  comes  against  a  twig,  the  three 
Tendril  Hooks.          toes  curl  round  it  like  those  of  a  perch- 
ing bird.     Besides  the  toes  or  tendrils, 
the  leaf-stalk  is  sensitive,  and  acts  like  that  of  a  regular 
leaf-climber,  wrapping  itself  round  a  neighboring  object. 

7.  In  some  cases  the  young  leaves  have  no  tendrils  at 
their  tips,  but  clasp  with  their  stalks,  and  this  is  a  case  ex- 
actly the  reverse  of  Tropceolum—a  tendril-climber  whose 
young  leaves  have   no  tendrils,   instead  of  a  leaf-climber 
whose  young  climbing  organs  are  not  leaves.     Thus  the 
close   relationship   that   exists    between  leaf-  and  tendril- 
climbers  is  again  illustrated.     This  plant  also  combines  the 
qualities  of  another  class  of  climbers,  namely,  twiners,  for 
it  can  wind  spirally  round  a  support  as  well  as  a  hop  or  any 
other  true  twiner.     Another  species  also  helps  to  support 
itself  by  putting   out  roots  from  its  stems,  which  adhere 
to  the  stick  up  which  the  plant  is  climbing.     So  that  here 
are  four  different  methods  of  climbing — twining,  leaf,  ten- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WATS.  19 

dril,  and  root-climbing — which  are  usually  characteristic  of 
different  classes  of  climbers,  combined  in  a  single  species. 

8.  The  tendrils  of   the  Virginia  creeper  may  here  be 
worth  noticing.     This  plant  can  climb  up  a  flat  wall,  and 
is  not  adapted  to  seize  sticks  or  twigs  ;  its  tendrils  do  occa- 
sionally curl  round  a  stick,  but  they  often  let  go  again. 
They,  like  bignonia  tendrils,  are  sensitive  to  the  light,  and 
grow  away  from  it,  and  thus  easily  find  out  where  the  wall 
lies  up  which  they  have  to  climb.     A  tendril  which  has 
come  against  the  wall  is  often  seen  to  rise  and  come  down 
afresh,  as  if  not  satisfied  with  its  first  position.     In  a  few 
days  after  a  tendril  has  touched  a  wall  the  tip  swells  up, 
becomes  red,  and  forms  one  of  the  little  feet  or  sticky  cush- 
ions by  which  the  tendrils  adhere.     The  adherence  is  caused 
by  a  resinous  cement  secreted  by  the  cushions,  and  which 
forms  a  strong  bond  of  union  between  the  wall  and  the  ten- 
dril.    After  the  tendril  has  become  attached  it  becomes 
woody,  and  is  in  this  state  remarkably  durable,  and  may 
remain  firmly  attached  and  quite  strong  for  as  many  as 
fifteen  years. 

9.  Besides  this  sense  of  touch,  by  which  a  bignonia  ten- 
dril distinguishes  between  the  objects  which  it  touches, 
there  are  other  instances  of  much  more  perfect  and  incom- 
prehensible sensibility.     Thus,  some  tendrils,  which  are  so 
sensitive  that  they  curl  up  when  a  weight  of  one  thirtieth 
or  even  one  fiftieth  of  a  grain  is  placed  on  them,  do  not 
take  the  least  notice  of  a  shower  of  rain  whose  falling  drops 
must  cause  a  much  greater  shock  to  the  tendrils. 

10.  Again,  some  tendrils  seem  to  have  the  power  of  dis- 
tinguishing between  objects  which  they  wish  to  seize  and 
their  brother  tendrils  which  they  do  not  wish  to  catch.     A 
tendril  may  be  drawn  repeatedly  over  another  without  caus- 
ing the  latter  to  contract. 

11.  The  tendrils  of  another  excellent  climber  (Cobcea 
scandens)  possess  some  curious  properties.    The  tendrils  are 


20  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

much  divided,  and  end  in  delicate  branchlets,  as  thin  as 
bristles,  and  very  flexible,  each  bearing  a  minute  double 
hook  at  its  tip.  These  are  formed  of  a  hard,  woody  sub- 
stance, and  are  as  sharp  as  needles  ;  a  single  tendril  may 
bear  between  ninety  and  a  hundred  of  these  beautiful  little 
grappling-hooks.  The  flexibility  of  the  tendrils  is  of  ser- 
vice in  allowing  them  to  be  blown  about  by  a  bre"ath  of 
wind,  and  they  can  thus  be  made  to  seize  hold  of  objects 
which  are  out  of  reach  of  the  ordinary  revolving  movements. 
Many  tendrils  can  only  seize  a  stick  by  curling  round  it, 
and  this,  even  in  the  most  sensitive  tendril,  must  take  a  min- 
ute or  two ;  but  with  Cobcea  the  sharp  hooks  catch  hold  of 
little  irregularities  on  the  bark  the  moment  the  tendril 
comes  into  contact  with  it,  and  afterward  the  tendril  can 
curl  round  and  make  the  attachment  permanent. 

12.  The  movement  of  the  little  hook-bearing  branches 
is  very  remarkable  in  this  species.     If  a  tendril  catches  an 
object  with  one  or  two  hooks,  it  is  not  contented,  but  tries 
to  attach  the  rest  of  them  in  the  same  way.     Now,  many 
of  the  branches  will  chance  to  be  so  placed  that  their  hooks 
do  not  naturally  catch,  either  because  they  come  laterally, 
or  with  their  blunt  backs  against  the  wood,  but  after  a 
short  time,  by  a  process  of  twisting  and  adjusting,  each 
little  hook  becomes  turned,  so  that  its  sharp  point  can  get 
a  hold  on  the  wood. 

13.  The  sharp  hook  on  the  tendrils  of  Cobcea  is  only  a 
very  perfect  form  of  the  bluntly  curved  tip  which  many 
tendrils  possess,  and  which  serves  the  same  purpose  of  tem- 
porarily holding  the  object  caught  until  the  tendril  can 
curve  over  and  make  it  secure.     There  is  a  curious  proof 
of  the  usefulness  of  even  this  blunt  hook  in  the  fact  that 
the  tendril  is  only  sensitive  to  a  touch  on  the  inside  of  the 
hook.     The  tendril,  when  it  comes  against  a  twig,  always 
slips  up  it  till  the  hook  catches  on  it,  so  that  it  would  be 
of  no  use  to  be  sensitive  on  the  convex  side.     Some  ten- 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  21 

drils,  on  the  other  hand,  have  no  hook  at  the  end,  and  here 
the  tendrils  are  sensitive  to  the  touch  on  any  side. 

14.  There  is  a  remarkable  movement  which  occurs  in 
tendrils  after  they  have  caught  an  object,  and  which  ren- 
ders a  tendril  a  better  climbing  organ  than  any  sensitive 
leaf.  This  movement  is  called  spiral  contraction.  When 
a  tendril  first  seizes  an  object  it  is  quite  straight,  with  the 
exception  of  the  extreme  tip,  which  is  firmly  curled  round 
the  object  seized.  But  in  a  day  or  two  the  tendril  begins 
to  contract,  and  ultimately  assumes  the  corkscrew-like 
form  represented  in  the  figures.  It  is  clear  that  in  spirally 
contracting  the  tendril  has  become  considerably  shorter ; 


Tendril  Coil. 


and,  since  the  end  of  the  tendril  is  fixed  to  a  branch,  it  is 
obvious  that  the  stem  must  be  dragged  nearer  to  the  object 
which  its  tendril  has  caught.  Thus,  if  a  shoot  of  bryony 
seizes  a  support  above  it,  the  contraction  of  the  tendril  will 
pull  up  the  shoot  in  the  right  direction,  So  that  in  this 
respect  the  power  of  spiral  contraction  gives  a  tendril- 
climber  an  advantage  over  leaf-climbers  which  have  no  con- 
tracting power,  and,  therefore,  no  means  of  hauling  them- 
selves up  to  supporting  objects. 

15.  But  the  spiral  contraction  of  tendrils  has  another 
use,  and  this  is  probably  the  most  important  one.  This 
use  depends  on  the  fact  that  a  contracted  tendril  acts  like 
a  spiral  spring,  and  is  thus  converted  into  a  yielding  instead 


22  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

of  an  unyielding  body.  The  spirally  wound  tendril  yields 
like  an  elastic  thread  to  a  pull  which  would  break  the  ten- 
dril in  its  original  condition.  The  meaning  of  this  arrange- 


Coil  and  DisL 


ment  is  to  enable  the  plant  to  weather  a  gale  which  would 
tear  it  from  its  support  by  snapping  the  tendrils,  if  they 
were  not  converted  into  spiral  springs.  After  the  tendril 
has  taken  hold  of  a  support,  spiral  coils  can  be  made  in  it 
only  by  the  middle  part  of  the  tendril  turning,  and  this 
will  cause  the  coils  to  be  turned  one  half  in  one  direction 
and  one  half  in  the  other. 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  23 

16.  As  in   the  process  of  natural  selection   the  hook- 
climbers  appear  to  have  grown  out  of  the  twiners,  the 
question  may  occur,  Why  is  hook-climbing  a  more  perfect 
method  of  climbing  than  turning  ?     Why,  when  a  plant 
had  become  a  twining  plant,  did  it  not  rest  satisfied  ?    The 
fact  that  leaf-  and  tendril-climbers  had  been  developed  out 
of  twiners,  and  not  vice  versa,  is  a  proof  that  climbing  by 
leaves  or  tendrils  is  a  more  advantageous  habit  than  twin- 
ing ;  but  we  do  not  see  why  it  should  be  so.     If  we  inquire 
why  any  plant  has  become  a  climber,  we  shall  see  the  rea- 
son.    Light  is  a  necessity  for  all  green  plants  ;  and  a  plant 
which  can  climb  is  enabled  to  escape  from  the  shadow  of 
other  plants  with  a  far  less  waste  of  material  than  a  forest- 
tree,  which  only  pushes  its  branches  into  the  light  by  sheer 
growth.     Thus,  the  weak,  straggling  stem  of  a  climbing 
plant  gets  all  the  advantages  gained  by  the  solid,  column - 
like  tree-trunk.     If  we  apply  this  test — which  is  the  most 
economical  plan  of  climbing,  twining  or  leaf-climbing — we 
see  at  once  that  a  plant  which  climbs  by  seizing  wastes  far 
less  material  than  one  which  twines.    Thus,  a  kidney-bean, 
which  had  climbed  up  a  stick  to  a  height  of  two  feet,  when 
unwound  from  its  support  was  found  to  be  three  feet  in 
length,  whereas  a  pea  which  had  climbed  up  two  feet  by  its 
tendrils  was  hardly  longer  than  the  height  reached.    Thus, 
the  bean  had  wasted   considerably  more  material  by  its 
method  of  climbing  by  twining  round  a  stick,  instead  of 
going  straight  up,  supported  by  its  tendrils,  like  the  pea. 

17.  There  are  several  other  ways  in  which  climbing  by 
tendrils  is  a  much  better  plan  than  twining.     It  is  a  safer 
method,  as  any  one  may  convince  himself  by  comparing 
the  security  of  a  tendril-bearer  in  a  heavy  wind  with  the 
ease  with  which  a  twiner  is  partly  blown  from  its  support. 
Again,  by  looking  at  those  leaf-climbing  plants  which  still 
possess  in  addition  the  power  of  twining,  it  will  be  seen 
how  incomparably  better  they  grasp  a  stick  than  does  a 


24  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

simple  twiner.  And  again,  a  twiner  from  being  best  fitted 
to  climb  bare  stems  often  has  to  start  in  the  shade,  whereas 
a  leaf-  or  tendril-climber  can  ramble  for  the  whole  extent  of 
its  growth  up  the  sunny  side  of  a  bush. 

18.  To  repeat  once  more  the  steps  which  it  is  believed 
have  occurred  in  the  evolution  of  climbing  plants  :  It  is 
probable  that  plants  have  become  twiners  by  exaggerating 
a  swinging-round  or  revolving  movement,  which  occurred 
in  a  rudimentary  form,  and  in  a  useless  condition,  in  some 
of  their  ancestors.     This  movement  has  been  utilized  for 
twining,   the   stimulus  which   has  driven   the  process  of 
change   in   this  direction   having   been   the   necessity  for 
light. 

19.  The  second  stage  has  been  the  development  of  sen- 
sitive leaves  by  a  twining  plant.     No  doubt  at  first  no  leaf- 
climber  depended  entirely  on  its  leaves — it  was  merely  a 
twiner  which  helped  itself  by  its  leaves.     Gradually  the 
leaves  became  more  perfect,  and  then  the  plant  could  leave 
off  the  wasteful  plan  of  growing  spirally  up  a  stick,  and 
adopt  the  more  economical  and  more  effective  one  of  pure 
leaf -climbing. 

20.  Finally,  from  sensitive  leaves  were  developed  the 
marvelously  perfect  tendrils  which  can  perceive  one  fiftieth 
of  a  grain,  and  can  show  distinct  curvature  within  twenty- 
five  seconds  after  being  touched,  tendrils  with  delicate, 
sticky  ends,  or  endowed  with  the  power  of  moving  toward 
the  dark,  or  of  creeping  into  little  cracks,  or  with  that 
mysterious  sense  of  touch  by  which  a  tendril  can  distin- 
guish a  brother  tendril  from  an  ordinary  twig,  and  can  dis- 
tinguish the  weight  of  a  rain-drop  hanging  to  it  from  that 
of  a  bit  of  thread — in  short,  all  the  delicate  contrivances 
which  place  tendril-bearers  so  eminently  at  the  head  of  the 
climbing  plants. 

Francis  Darwin. 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WATS.  25 


THE    HOSPITALITY   OF    PLANTS. 

1.  As  if  in  return  for  the  manifold  services  which  plants 
require  and  receive  from  their  fellow-creatures,  they  show 
kindness  of  their  own  to  animal  life,  and  shelter  and  feed 
the  most  timid  as  well  as  the  noblest  of  beings  with  the 
hospitality  of  their  generous  life.     In  early  childhood  al- 
ready we  are  taught  that  even  the  smallest  of  seeds — the 
mustard-seed — grows  up  to  be  a  tree,  "in  whose  branches  the 
fowls  of  the  heavens  have  their  habitation/'  that  "both 
Judah  and  Israel  dwelt  safely,  every  man  under  his  vine 
and  under  his  fig-tree,  all  the  days  of  Solomon,"  and  that 
Deborah,  the  prophetess,  "  dwelt  under  a  palm-tree."   Mod- 
ern science  has  furnished  as  numerous  striking  and  detailed 
instances  of  the  great  variety  of  life  which  is  thus  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  vegetable  kingdom. 

2.  It  is  not  only  that  the  plaintive  nightingale  sings 
in  the  murmuring  poplar,  while  the  gay  butterfly  loves  the 
sweet-scented  rose,  that  the  somber  yew  hides  the  owl's 
nest,   and  the  dark  northern  pine   harbors  the  fur-clad 
squirrel.     Animals,  invisible  to  the  naked  eye,  have  been 
found  to  float  in  the  sap  of  trees,  and  even  the  smallest 
moss  has  its  own  tiny  insect,  which  it  boards  and  lodges. 
Aphides  and  gall-insects  live,  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
on  the  leaves  of  plants,  flies  and  butterflies  on  their  flow- 
ers, and  ants  and  worms  crowd  upon  them,  after  death,  in 
countless  multitudes.     Every  plant,  moreover,  is  inhabited 
by  some  insect  to  which  it  affords  an  exclusive  home.    Many 
caterpillars  are  born  and  die  with  the  leaf  on  which  they 
live,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  proud  monarch — oak — 
alone  supports  seventy  different  kinds  of  insects,  a  swarm 
which  sets  all  measurement  at  defiance,  and,  moreover,  re- 
places by  numbers  and  the  enormous  voracity  with  which 
they  are  endowed,  what  they  want  in  bodily  magnitude. 


26  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

3.  Plants  have  to  support  guests  of  every  size  and  shape. 
The  butterfly  and  its  less  gaudy  relations  drink  with  their 
long  trunks  sweet  honey  out  of  gorgeously  colored  flower- 
cups  ;   four-winged  bees  carry  away  the  precious  dust  of 
anthers  in  large  spoons  fastened  to  their  thighs  ;  gall-insects 
pierce  with  sharp  daggers  the  tender  leaf,  drink  its  refresh- 
ing juice,  and  deposit  their  eggs  in  the  delicate  texture  ; 
beetles  gnaw  and  saw  with  a  hundred  curiously  shaped  in- 
struments through  the  hardest  wood  of  noble  trees  ;  naked, 
helpless-looking  worms  make  the  very  trunk  their  cover 
and  their  home,  and  with  sharp  augers  often  destroy  whole 
forests.    The  ingenious  ant  of  South  America  has  its  winter 
residence  in  the  warm  ground,  and  its  cool  summer-house 
on  tall  plants.     For  there  grows  on  the  banks  of  the  Ama- 
zon River  a  gigantic  reed,  nearly  thirty  feet  high,  which  is 
frequently  crowned  with  a  large  ball  of  earth,  like  the 
golden  globe  on  the  utmost  end  of  a  lofty  church-steeple. 
This  is  the  comfortable  home  of  myriads  of  ants,  which  re- 
tire to  these  safe  dwellings,  high  and  dry,  at  the  time  of 
rains,  and  during  the  period  of  inundation,  rising  and  de- 
scending in  the  hollow  of  the  reed,  and  living  on  what  they 
find  swimming  on  the  surface  of  the  water. 

4.  Another  curious  lodger  of  a  South  American  plant 
is  the  famous  cochineal-bug,  well  known  from  the  precious 
red  color  that  bears  its  name,  and  which  it  draws  from  a 
certain  cactus  until  its  body  becomes  impregnated  with  the 
brilliant  scarlet.     It  is  probably  the  most  sedentary  of  all 
insects,  making  but  one  short  journey  in  early  life,  and 
then  settling  down  for  ever  upon  one  and  the  same  spot. 
As  soon,  namely,  as  the  young  insect  leaves  its  egg,  it 
manifests  great  activity  and   a  restless   desire   to  travel. 
But,  alas  !    it   finds   itself  upon  a  prickly,  thorny  stem, 
hanging  high  in  the  air,  and  in  contact  with  no  other. 
But  Nature  soon  comes  to  its  aid,  and  sends  a  small  spider 
to  spin  a  silken  thread  from  branch  to  branch.     Upon  this 


HOME  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  27 

slender,  trembling  bridge,  the  young  cochineal  wanders 
boldly  out  to  a  new  world,  seeks  a  promising  spot,  delib- 
erately sinks  its  fragile  trunk  into  the  juicy  leaf,  and  never 
draws  it  back  again — drinking,  drinking,  like  a  toper  as 
he  is,  through  his  whole  existence. 

5.  Even  larger  inhabitants  are  often  found  on  quite 
small  plants.     Thus,  England  produces  a  slight  but  well- 
supported  thistle,  which  is  frequently  found  to  have  little 
elaborate  nests  hanging  down  at  an  elevation  of  a  few 
inches  from  the  ground.     These  contain  not  insects,  but 
mice,  though  of  the  smallest  variety  known,  and  are  occa- 
sionally large  enough  to  hold  as  many  as  nine  young  ones, 
carefully  stowed  away  and  well  secured  against  all  enemies 
and  dangers. 

6.  Birds  seem,  of  course,  the  most  natural  lodgers  of 
plants  ;  they  find  there  abundance  of  nourishment,  all  the 
material  for  building  their  nests,  and  a  well-protected  home. 
The  eagle  gathers  the  knotted  branches  of  oaks  or  pines,  to 
bring  up  his  fierce  brood  upon  the  hard,  uncushioned  couch  ; 
the  thorn  tears  a  handful  of  wool  from  the  passing  sheep 
for  its  tiny  inhabitants ;  and  the  despised  mullein  covers 
its  broad  leaves  with  the  softest  of  downs  to  line  the  bed  of 
the  delicate  children  of  the  humming-bird.     There  is  prob- 
ably no  bush  and  no  tree  that  has  not  its  own  particular 
bird  ;  everywhere  do  the  fowls  of  the  air  find  a  foliage, 
thicker  or  thinner,  to  shelter  them  against  rain,  heat,  and 
cold  ;  a  hollow  trunk  affords  safe  and  warm  lodgings  ;  soft 
moss  carpets  their  dwellings,  and  insects  and  worms  swarm 
around,  to  offer,  at  the   same  time,  food  in  abundance. 
They  give,  in  return,  life  and  sound  to  the  immovable 
plant.     Song-birds   of   many  kinds  perch  and  sing  their 
beautiful  anthems  on  every  spray  ;  locusts  trill  their  mo- 
notonous and  yet  pleasing  note  among  a  world  of  leaves 
through  long  summer  noons,  and  the  katydid  utters  its 
shrill  cry  during  sultry  nights.     They  all  love  their  home, 


28  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

making  it  their  dwelling  by  night  and  by  day,  and  many 
are  the  instances  in  which  birds,  that  had  long  lived  in 
certain  trees,  have  died  from  homesickness  when  they  were 
felled. 

7.  Nor  has  man  himself  neglected  to  avail  himself  of 
trees  as  a  dwelling  or  a  home.     Already  Lucinius  Mutia- 
nus,  an  ex-consul  of  Lycia,  took  special  pleasure  in  feasting 
twenty-one  guests  in  a   hollow  plane-tree  ;  and  modern 
travelers  tell  us  of  a  gigantic  baobab  in  Senegambia,  the 
interior  of  which  is  used  as  a  public  hall  for  national  meet- 
ings, while  its  portals  are  ornamented  with  rude,  quaint 
sculptures,  cut  out  of  the  still  living  wood.     The  sacred 
fig-tree  of  India,  which,  as  Milton  says, 

"Branching  so  broad  along,  that  in  the  ground 
The  bending  twigs  take  root,  and  daughters  grow 
About  the  mother-tree  a  pillar's  shade 
High  overarched,  with  echoing  walks  between," 
is  worshiped  as  sacred,  and  the  lazy,  helpless  priest,  the 
Bonze,  builds  himself  a  hut,  not  unlike  a  bird's  cage,  in  its 
branches,  where  he  spends  his  life  dreaming,  in  contempla- 
tive indolence,  under  its  cool,  pleasant  shade. 

8.  Nay,  whole  nations  live  in  the  branches  of  trees. 
There  is  a  race  of  natives  of  South  America,  west  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Orinoco,  the  Guaranis,  who  have  never  yet 
been  completely  subdued,  thanks  mainly  to  their  curious 
habitations.     The  great  Humboldt  tells  us  that  they  twine 
most  skillfully  the  leaf-stalks  of  the  Mauritius  palm  into 
cords,  and  weave  them  with  great  care  into  mats.     These 
they  suspend  high  in  the  air  from  branch  to  branch,  and 
cover  them  with  clay  ;  here  they  dwell,  and  in  a  dark  night 
the  amazed  and  bewildered  traveler  may  see  the  fires  of 
their  dwellings  high  in  the  tops  of  lofty  trees. 

9.  Thus  it  is  that  vegetable  and  animal  life  go  hand  in 
hand,  showing  that  beautiful  bond  of  love  which  pervades 
all  nature,  even  in  its  minor  parts.    Where  there  is  life,  there 


HOME  PLANTS  AND    THEIR  WAYS.  29 

are  plants,  and  on  land  and  on  water,  on  the  loftiest  mount- 
ain-top and  in  the  very  bowels  of  the  earth — everywhere 
does  man  find  a  plant  to  minister  to  his  support  and  enjoy- 
ment, everywhere  he  sees  plants  quietly  and  mysteriously 
perform  their  humble  duty  in  the  great  household  of  na- 
ture. Plants  alone — it  would  at  first  sight  appear — have 
no  home,  for  they  seem  to  be  at  home  everywhere.  Turn 
up  the  soil  where  you  will,  to  any  depth,  and  such  a  rich 
abundance  of  vegetable  life  is  mixed  with  the  loam  that 
almost  instantaneously  plants  innumerable  spring  up  from 
seeds,  which  may  have  lain  slumbering  for  thousands  of 
years  in  the  warm  bosom  of  our  mother  earth. 

10.  Man  himself  can  not  master  this  exuberance  of 
vegetable  life.     He  may  change  it  by  cultivation,  it  is  true, 
but  that  also  only  for  a  time.     And  what  is  a  generation  or 
two  in  comparison  with  the  eternal  earth  ?    Do  not  even 
in  our  day,  and  before  our  eyes,  lofty  trees  raise   their 
proud  heads  where  our  fathers  cut  the  green  turf  with 
their  sharp  plow  ?    In  vain  does  man  take  the  Alpine  rose 
from  the  banks  of  its  pure  mountain  brook  and  plant  it  in 
the  lowly  valley  ;  in  vain  does  he  bring  costly  seeds  from 
the  Indies,  and  the  warm  climes  of  the  tropics,  even  to  the 
ice-clad  coast  of  Norway.     They  live  and  pine  and  die.     It 
is  true  he  sometimes  seeks  to  reverse  Nature  itself.     He 
places  bubbling  fountains  on  the  top  of  high  hills,  and 
plants  lime-trees  and  poplars  between  great  masses  of  rocks  ; 
vineyards  must  adorn  his  valleys,  and  meadows  spread  their 
soft  velvet  over  mountain-sides.     But  the  poet  of  old  al- 
ready has  taught  us  that  you  may  drive  out  Nature  even 
with  the  pitchfork,  and  yet  she  will  ever  return. 

11.  A  few  years'  neglect,  and  how  quickly  she  resumes 
her  sway  !    Artificial  lakes  become  gloomy  marshes,  bowers 
are  filled  with  countless  briers,  and  stately  avenues  are  over- 
grown with  reckless  profusion.     The  plants  of  the  soil  de- 
clare war  against  the  intruders  from  abroad,  and  claim  once 


30  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

more  their  birthright  to  the  land  of  their  fathers.  The 
fine,  well- trimmed  turf  is  smothered  under  a  thousand 
coarser  plants,  rank  grass  and  fat  clover  overspread  the 
exotics  ;  briers  climb  up  with  the  aid  of  hooks  and  ladders, 
as  if  they  were  storming  a  fortress  ;  nettles  fill  the  urns  of 
statues  with  their  thick  tufts,  and  unsightly  mosses  creep 
up  the  very  faces  of  marble  beauties.  Wild  cherry-trees 
and  maples  seize  on  every  cornice  and  cleft  of  every  stately 
mansion,  hardy,  invincible  roots  penetrate  into  the  slightest 
opening,  until  at  last  victory  is  declared,  and  the  trees  of 
the  forest  wave  their  rich  foliage  over  the  high  turrets,  and 
raise  triumphantly  on  spire  and  pinnacle  the  gorgeous 
banner  of  Nature. 

M.  Schele  de  Vere. 


THE   RHODORA. 

1.  IN  May,  when  sea- winds  pierced  our  solitudes, 
I  found  the  fresh  rhodora  in  the  woods, 
Spreading  its  leafless  blooms  in  a  damp  nook, 
To  please  the  desert  and  the  sluggish  brook. 
The  purple  petals,  fallen  in  the  pool, 

Made  the  black  waters  with  their  beauty  gay  : 

Here  might  the  red-bird  come  his  plumes  to  cool, 

And  court  the  flower  that  cheapens  his  array. 

2.  Rhodora  !  if  the  sages  ask  thee  why 

This  charm  is  wasted  on  the  earth  and  sky, 
Tell  them,  dear,  that  if  eyes  were  made  for  seeing, 
Then  Beauty  is  its  own  excuse  for  being. 
Why  thou  wert  there,  0  rival  of  the  rose  ! 

I  never  thought  to  ask,  I  never  knew ; 
But  in  my  simple  ignorance  suppose 

The  self -same  Power  that  brought  me  there  brought  you. 

JZmerson. 


PART  II. 
STRANGE  PLANTS  AND  THEIR   WAYS. 


THE  BUILDER'S  TREE  OF  CHINA. 

1.  A  TREE  of  great  importance  in  the  uses  of  daily  life 
to  those  who  dwell  in  the  localities  of  its  growth  is  the  bam- 
boo.    It  is  found  in  Asia  and  the  West  Indies,  but  it  is  in 
the  eastern  portion  of  the  former  continent  that  it  enters 
most  largely  into  the  needs  of  the  people.     It  has  a  hard 
texture,  with  hollow,  jointed  stems,  and  grows  to  a  height 
of  about  fifty  feet.     Strictly  speaking,  the  bamboo  is  a  gi- 
gantic grass,  but,  as  great  numbers  grow  together  to  a  lofty 
height,  it  has  the  aspect  of  a  noble  tree.     It  rarely  attains 
to  a  thickness  of  more  than  ten  inches,  or  a  distance  be- 
tween the  joints  of  more  than  five  feet. 

2.  The  Chinese  have  developed  the  art  of  bamboo  cul- 
ture, for  with  them  it  is  the  national  plant  to  such  a  de- 
gree that  they  produce  black  as  well  as  yellow  bamboo, 
and  the  Emperor  has  an  officer  whose  special  duty  it  is  to 
look  after  his  bamboo  gardens.     It  is  said  that  a  famine 
was  prevented  in  India  in  1812  by  the  sudden  flowering 
of  the  bamboo-trees,  and  fifty  thousand  people  were  in  the 
jungles  gathering  the  seed  for  food.     To  reach  the  blos- 
soming time  takes  thirty  years,  when  the  plant  produces 
seed  profusely  and  then  dies. 

3.  The  young  and  tender   shoots  of  the  bamboo  are 


32  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

cooked  as  vegetables,  and  made  into  delicious  sweetmeats 
by  the  confectioners.  But  it  is  the  application  of  the 
bamboo  in  the  industrial  arts  which  marks  its  highest  im- 
portance. Houses,  boats,  the  yards,  cordage,  and  sails  of 
vessels,  telescopes,  aqueduct-pipes,  water-proof  thatching 
and  clothing,  water-wheels,  fences,  chairs,  tables,  book- 
cases, boxes,  hats,  umbrellas,  fans,  cups,  measures,  shields, 
pikes  and  spears,  paper,  and  pipes,  are  all  made  from  this 
protean  tree,  which  almost  rivals  the  palm  in  its  usefulness. 
The  pith  is  used  for  lamp- wicks  ;  and  exquisite  carvings, 
inlaid  with  gold  and  silver,  and  far  more  elegant  than  ivory- 
work,  are  cut  from  their  hard  stems.  The  wood,  indeed,  is 
so  full  of  silex  that  thin  slices  serve  the  purpose  of  knives. 
By  experiment,  Mr.  Edison  has  found  that  the  carbonized 
fibers  of  the  bamboo  furnish  the  best  material  for  the  in- 
candescent electric  lamp,  and  are  now  used  in  his  system 
of  electric  lighting.  In  some  of  the  East  Indian  countries, 
as  in  Burmah  and  Siam,  whole  cities  are  built  from  the 
bamboo,  houses  being  lashed  together,  and  capable  of  being 
taken  apart-  like  a  tent. 

World  of  Wonders. 


THE   SCHOLAR'S    PLANT   OF   EGYPT. 

1.  O^E  of  the  most  interesting  plants  of  the  Eastern  Con- 
tinent is  the  papyrus,  from  which  is  derived  our  word  pa- 
per.    It  was  called  papu  by  the  ancient  Egyptians,  whence 
the  Greek  word  papuros  and  the  English  word  paper  come. 
The  old  historian  Herodotus  called  it  bublos,  and  from  this 
the  old  Greeks  derived  their  name  for  a  book,  UUion, 
which  word  we  have  perpetuated  in  our  Bible. 

2.  The  paper  reed,  or  papyrus  plant,  belongs  to  the 
family  of  sedges,  and  it  is  found  now  on  the  marshy  banks 
of  rivers  in  Abyssinia,  Syria,  and  Sicily.     It  is  now  rarely 
found  in  the  Nile,  though  it  is  from  its  Egyptian  associa- 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  33 

tion  that  the  historic  interest  of  the  papyrus  plant  began. 
During  the  long  servitude  of  Egypt  under  the  warlike  races 
which  overran  it,  and  the  loss  of  interest  in  literature,  it  is 
probable  that  the  culture  of  the  papyrus  plant  utterly 
ceased. 

3.  The  part  played  by  the  papyrus  plant  in  the  early 
history  of  civilization  was  a  very  important  one.     With 
the  exception  of  parchment,  made  from  the  skins  of  ani- 
mals, it  was  the  only  material  used  by  the  most  intel- 
lectual of  the  ancient  nations — the  Egyptians,  the  Greeks, 
and   Romans— for  the  purpose  of  books.      The  papyrus, 
being  far  more  easily  obtained  and  easy  to  use  than  the 
parchment,  thus  became  the  indispensable  fact  in  the  pres- 
ervation of  ancient  literature.     Papyrus  rolls  are  now  fre- 
quently found  wrapped  around  the  mummies  taken  out 
of  the  catacombs  on  the  Nile,  and  these  have  furnished 
a  great  insight  into  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  old 
Egyptians. 

4.  The  stem  of  the  papyrus  is  smooth,  triangular  in 
shape,  and  attains  a  height  of  from  five  to  twenty-five  feet. 
It  bears  long,  grassy  leaves  springing  from  near  the  base, 
and  its  flowers  form  small,  flattened  spikes  of  from  six  to 
eight  flowers  each,  clustered  in  great  numbers  in  a  compo- 
nent head  from  fifteen  to  twenty  inches  long,  supported  at 
its  base  by  a  many-leaved  cup.     The  stalks  are  always  half 
submerged  in  the  marsh  or  water,  and  the  whole  appear- 
ance of  the  plant  is  very  graceful.     It  is  now  cultivated  oc- 
casionally as  a  hot-house  plant,  both  as  a  curiosity  and  for 
decoration. 

5.  The  right  of  growing  and  selling  the  papyrus  was  a 
government  monopoly  in  Egypt,  and  was  directly  under 
the  charge  of  the  priests,  who  cultivated  it  in  large  quanti- 
ties near  their  temples,  which  were  generally  located  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile.     It  was  used  for  a  great  variety  of  pur- 
poses.   Its  graceful  plumes  crowned  the  statues  of  the  gods 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


and  decorated  their  temples ;  its  pith  was  eaten  as  food ; 
wickerwork  boats,  baskets,  and  boxes  were  woven  of  its 
stalk,  and  of  its  bark  were  made  sails,  cordage,  mats,  cloth, 
and  sandals,  for  the  priests ;  it  was  applied  as  medicine 
for  the  cure  of  ulcers  ;  it  furnished  materials  for  torches 

and  candles,  and  its 
roots  were  used  for  fuel 
and  manufactured  into 
utensils  and  furniture. 
6.  But  it  was  in  the 
manufacture  of  paper 
that  it  was  put  to  its 
most  important  use. 
The  mode  of  manufac- 
ture was  as  follows :  The 
inner  skin  of  the  stalk 
was  divided  by  means 
of  a  sharp  needle  into 
as  many  thin  plates  as 
the  size  would  admit. 

•  .yrflwra-n  wi  /  -:    =        These  were  placed  on 

I 


a  table,  and  kept  con- 
tinually moistened  by 
Nile  water.  Over  these 
slips  a  transverse  layer 
was  placed,  after  which 
the  whole  was  subject- 
ed to  pressure,  till  the 
The  Papyrus.  plates  adhered  closely 

together    in    a    sheet. 

The  sheets  were  then  dried  in  the  sun,  beaten  smooth  and 
firm  with  a  mallet,  and  polished  with  a  piece  of  ivory  or 
shell.  The  breadth  of  the  sheet  was  limited  by  the  length 
of  the  papyrus  slips,  but  its  length  could  be  extended  in- 
definitely. 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR   WAYS.  35 

7.  When  finished,  the  papyrus  sheets  were  rolled  on  a 
wooden  cylinder,  the  ends  of  which,  projecting  beyond  the 
papyrus  roll,  were  beautifully  decorated  by  painting  and 
carving.     Such  was  the  material  on  which  the  most  impor- 
tant results  of  ancient  thought  were  inscribed. 

8.  Papyrus  was  used  for  writing  purposes  at  a  very  re- 
mote period  in  Egypt,  and  during  the  time  of  Herodotus  it 
was  an  important  article  of  commerce,  which  it  continued 
to  be  for  seven  or  eight  centuries.     The  Romans,  it  is  said, 
imported  all  their  papyrus  from  Egypt,  but  improved  the 
manufacture  of  it.     It  was  believed  that  nowhere  else  than 
in  Egypt  did  the  plant  grow  in  its  full  perfection  and  fine- 
ness of  fiber.     During  the  early  days  of  the  Roman  empire 
a  papyrus  famine  gave  great  alarm  to  learned  men,  and  the 
senate  was  obliged  to  regulate  its  distribution  by  edict. 

World  of  Wonders. 


A   MIGRATORY    ROSE. 

1.  STRANGE  as  the  heading  of  this  paper  may  appear  to 
the  reader,  the  flower  is  nevertheless  an  entity — a  thing 
that  exists,  and  may  be  handled  ;  a  plant  almost  as  regular 
as  the  swallow  in  its  flittings  to  and  fro ;  one  that  travels 
many  miles  annually  ;   and,  what  is  more,  a  fashionable 
one — resorting  to  the  sea-side  during  the  hottest  season, 
to  indulge  in  a  swim  among  the  cool  billows  of  the  Medi- 
terranean.    The  name  of  this  remarkable  vegetable  phe- 
nomenon is  the  Rose  of  Jericho  with  the  unlearned.     Very 
many  superstitions  are  connected  with  this  extraordinary 
plant  in  the  minds  of  Bedouins  and  other  Arab  tribes. 
The  ancients  attributed  miraculous  virtues  to  it. 

2.  To  behold  this  little  rose,  it  is  not  necessary  to  tell 
you  "to  go  to  Jericho";  no  such  uncomplimentary  jour- 
ney is  required.     In  the  arid  wastes  of  Egypt,  by  the  bor- 


36 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


ders  of  the  Gaza  desert,  in  Arabia's  wilderness  of  sands,  on 
the  roofs  of  houses  and  among  rubbish  in  Syria,  abundant 
specimens  are  to  be  met  with.  But,  like  many  other  things 
of  insignificant  exterior,  few  pause  to  look  upon  or  handle 
this  wayside  shrub,  which  nevertheless  carries  with  it  a  les- 
son and  a  moral. 

3.    By   the    laws    of  germination,   there    are,    we    are 
told,  these  three  things  necessary  for  a  plant — humidity, 

heat,     and    oxy- 
genized air.    The 
first  of    them  is 
indispensable,  in- 
asmuch as  with- 
out it  the  grain 
or    seed    would 
not  swell,  and, 
without  swelling, 
could    not    burst 
its  shell  or  skin; 
and  heat,  in  union 
with  water,  brings 
various  gases  to  young  plants 
— especially  oxygen — which 
are  necessary  for  their  ex- 
istence. 

4.  With  these  facts  be- 
fore us,  and  a  knowledge  that  rain  seldom  falls  in  most 
places  where  the  rose  of  Jericho  thrives,  how  are  we  to 
account  for  the  extraordinary  circumstance  of  this  plant 
being  periodically  abundant  and  flowering  at  precisely  the 
same  season  year  after  year,  when,  by  the  acknowledged 
laws  of  germination,  there  has  been  that  succor  wanting 
which  is  indispensable  to  propagate  vegetation  ?  Now  ap- 
pears the  most  remarkable  and  most  direct  interposition 
of  Nature  for  her  offspring — an  interposition  little  short 


The  Rose  of  Jericho. 
The  dead  plant  and  a  leafy  branch. 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR   WAYS.  37 

of  miraculous,  and,  indeed,  apparently  so  fabulous  as  to  be 
unworthy  of  record.  But  the  fact  has  been  established 
beyond  doubt  that,  for  its  own  purposes,  this  little  plant 
performs  annual  journeys  over  a  large  extent  of  country, 
and  into  the  ocean,  whence,  at  a  stated  period,  it,  or  rather 
its  offspring,  returns  to  the  original  haunts,  takes  root, 
thrives,  and  blossoms. 

5.  In  the  height  of  spring,  when  Nature  casts  her  brill- 
iant vesture,  set  with  flowers  and  flowerets  of  a  hundred 
varied  hues,  over  the  fertile  valleys  and  hills  of  Syria  and 
part  of  Palestine  ;  when  every  breeze  is  laden  with  rich  in- 
cense from  orange  groves  or  honeysuckle  dells — then,  un- 
heeded amid  the  rich  profusion  of  vegetation,  or  isolated 
amid  the  desert  sands,  blossoms  the  tiny  rose  of  Jericho. 
On  house-tops,  where  the  sun's  fierce  rays  rend  crevices ;  on 
dust-heaps,  where  half-starved,  wretched  curs  prowl  and  dig 
for  food  or  a  resting-place ;  where  multitudes  throng  the 
streets,  and  where  neither  foot  of  man  nor  beast  has  ever 
left  imprint  on  the  broiling  sand — there  sprouts  this  wonder- 
ful little  plant. 

6.  When  summer  has  fairly  set  in,  and  flowering  shrubs 
have  ceased  to  blossom — about  the  same  season  of  the  year 
that  Mr.  Bull  and  his  family  are  meditating  a  month's  trip 
to  the  sea-side  for  fresh  breezes  and  sea-bathing,  when  the 
whole  house  is  turned  topsy-turvy  in  the  pleasurable  excite- 
ment of  packing  for  the  month's  holiday — the  rose  of  Jeri- 
cho begins  to  show  symptoms  of  a  migratory  disposition  also. 
How  astonished  Mr.  Brown  would  be  if  his  gardener  rushed 
in  with  the  startling  intelligence  that  some  favorite  rose- 
bush or  other  plant  in  the  garden  had  evinced  sudden  signs 
of  restlessness,  and,  after  a  few  preliminary  efforts,  had  qui- 
etly taken  itself  off  for  the  season  ! 

7.  Hadji   Ismail,  the  Bedouin   camel-driver,  who  wit- 
nesses this  phenomenon  annually,  encountering  scores  of 
roses  while  migrating,  simply  pauses  to  stroke  his  prolific 


38  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

beard  and  fresh  charge  his  pipe,  while  he  pours  into  the 
eager  ears  of  some  untraveled  novice  legends  about  this 
wonderful  rose  —  legends  replete  with  fairy  romance,  in 
which  almost  invariably  a  certain  unmentionable  gentle- 
man comes  in  for  a  volley  of  invectives,  as  being  the  insti- 
gator of  this  mysterious  freak  of  nature. 

8.  The  first  symptom  the  rose  of  Jericho  gives  of  an 
approaching  tour  is  the  shedding  of  all  her  leaves ;   the 
branches  then  collapse,  apparently  wither,  and  roll  them- 
selves firmly  into  the  shape  of  a  ball.     Like  the  fairies  that 
traveled  in  nut-shells,  this  plant  ensconces  itself  in  its  own 
frame-work  of  a  convenient  shape,  size,  and  weight  for  un- 
dertaking the  necessary  journey.     Not  long  has  the  flower 
assumed   this  shape  when  strong  land-breezes  sweep  over 
the  land,  blowing  hot  and  fiercely  toward  the  ocean.      In 
their  onward  course,  these  land-winds  uproot  and  carry 
with  them  the  bulbs  or  frame-work  of  our  rose  ;  and,  once 
uprooted,  these  are  tossed  and  blown  over  many  and  many 
a  dreary  mile  of  desert  sand,  till  they  are  finally  whirled 
up  into  the  air,  and  swept  over  the  coast  into  the  ocean. 

9.  Soon  after  the  little  plant  comes  into  contact  with 
the  water,  it  unpacks   again,  unfolds  itself,  expands  its 
branches,  and  expels  its  seeds  from  the  seed-vessels.    Then, 
I  presume,  the  mother -plant  finishes  her  career,   or  is 
stranded  a  wreck  upon  the  sea-beach.     However  this  may 
be,  it  seems  evident  that  the  seeds,  after  having  been  thor- 
oughly saturated  with  water,   are   brought  back  by  the 
waves,  and  cast  high  and  dry  upon  the  beach.     When  the 
westerly  winds  set  in  with  violence  from  the  sea  they  carry 
these  seeds  back  with  them,  scattering  them  far  and  wide 
over  the  desert,  and  among  inhabited  lands  ;  and  so  surely 
as  the  spring-time  comes  round  will  the  desolate  borders  of 
the  desert  be  enlivened  by  the  tiny  blossoms  of  the  rose  of 
Jericho. 

Chambers^  Journal. 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  39 


REFRESHMENT-TREES. 

1.  ALEXANDER  VON  HUMBOLDT  first  made  known  to 
the  civilized  world,  on  his  return  from  South  America,  the 
remarkable  qualities  of  the  cow-tree.     Of  the  delicious  sap 
produced  by  this  tree  for  the  thirsty  traveler  he  thus  writes  : 
"  We  were  assured  that  the  negroes  on  the  farm,  who  are  in 
the  habit  of  drinking  large  quantities  of  this  vegetable  milk, 
consider  it  is  highly  nutritious  ;  an  assertion  which  startled 
me  the  more  as  almost  all  lactescent  vegetable  fluids  are 
acrid,  bitter,  and  somewhat  poisonous.     Experience,  how- 
ever, proved  to   us  during  our  residence  at  Barbula  that 
the  virtues  of  the  cow-tree  had  not  been  exaggerated." 

2.  This  strange  tree  is  an  evergreen  which  is  found  in 
the  mountains  of  Venezuela.    The  sap  flows  freely  when  the 
bark  is  wounded,  and  it  is  safe  to  drink  freely,  for  the  fluid, 
which  has  the  color  and  taste  of  milk,  is  not  only  cool 
and  refreshing,  but  is  full  of  nutriment.     The  natives  of 
Venezuela  all  know  this  tree  well,  and  find  in  its  delicious 
sap  a  substitute  for  both  food  and  water  in  time  of  need. 
Some  attempt  was  made,  indeed,  at  one  time  by  the  Venezu- 
elan government  to  extend  its  growth  in  parts  of  the  coun- 
try where  it  was  not  natural,  but,  like  all  efforts  of  South 
Americans  which  exact  watchfulness  and  trouble,  it  speedily 
died  out  without  accomplishment. 

3.  The  traveler's  tree  of  Madagascar,  is  another  example 
of  the  kindly  provision  of  nature  for  the  requirements  of 
the  human  kind.     This  tree  is  very  abundant  throughout 
the  island,  and  rises  from  the  ground  with  a  thick,  succu- 
lent stem  like  that  of  a  plantain.     Long,  broad  leaves  grow 
from  opposite  sides  of  the  stalk,  so  that  the  tree  looks  like 
a  huge,  green,  open  fan.    "  Many  of  the  trees,"  says  a  trav- 
eler, "reach  thirty  feet  from  the  ground  to  the  lowest 
leaves.     I  frequently  counted  from  twenty  to  twenty-four 


40  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

leaves  on  a  single  tree,  the  stalk  of  each  leaf  being  eight 
feet  long,  and  the  broad  leaf  itself  being  about  six  feet  long. 


The  Traveler's  Tree. 


The  whole  of  these  twenty-four  ^" 

bright-green,    gigantic    leaves,  *'l 

spread  out  like  a  fern  at  the 

top  of  a  trunk  thirty  feet  high,  presented  a  spectacle  as 

impressive  as  it  was  rare  and  beautiful." 

4.  The  chief  distinction  of  the  tree  is  that  during  the 
most  arid  season  it  contains  a  large  quantity  of  pure,  fresh 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR   WAYS.  41 

water,  supplying  to  the  traveler  the  place  of  wells  in  the 
desert.  So  abundant  and  pure  is  the  water  that  the  natives 
will  not  take  the  trouble  to  go  to  a  spring  or  well,  but  draw 
off  and  drink  the  fluid  of  this  tree.  The  Kev.  William  El- 
lis, in  his  account  of  a  visit  to  Madagascar,  says  he  was 
skeptical  of  these  accounts,  and  resolved  to  test  their  truth. 
Passing  a  clump  of  the  trees,  one  of  his  bearers  thrust  his 
spear-head  several  inches  deep  into  the  thick,  firm  end  of 
the  leaf-stalk,  where  it  joined  the  trunk.  Instantly  a  stream 
of  water  gushed  forth,  about  a  quart  of  which  was  caught 
in  a  pitcher.  The  water  was  found  to  be  almost  ice-cold, 
clear,  and  perfectly  sweet. 

5.  "But,"  says   Mr.   Ellis,  "in  Madagascar  this  tree 
might  with  propriety  be  called  the  builder's  instead  of  the 
traveler's  tree.      Its   leaves  form   the  thatch   of   all  the 
houses  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  island.      The  stems  of 
the  leaves  form  the  partitions  and  oftentimes  the  sides  of 
the  houses,  and  the  hard  outside  bark,  having  been  beaten 
out  flat,  is  laid  for  flooring.     I  have  seen  the  entire  floor 
of  a  long,  well-built    house   covered  with  its  bark,  each 
piece  being  at  least  eighteen  feet  wide  and  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  long.     The  leaves  make  water-proof  wrappers,  when 
green,  and  they  also  serve  the  purpose  of  table-cloths  and 
plates  at  meals." 

6.  Charles  Kingsley  gives  this  description  of  a  climbing 
plant  valuable  to  travelers,  which  is  found  in  the  tropical 
forests   of   Trinidad:    "You  walk   on   and   are   suddenly 
stopped  by  a  gray,  lichen-covered  bar  as  thick  as  your  ankle. 
You  follow  it  up  with  your  eye,  and  find  it  entwine  itself 
with  three  or  four  other  bars,  and  roll  over  with  them  in 
great  knots  and  festoons,  and  loops  twenty  feet  high,  and 
then  go  up  with  them  into  the  green  cloud  over  your  head 
and  vanish,  as  if  a  giant  had  thrown  a  ship's  cable  into  the 
tree-tops. 

7.  "At  one  of  the  loops  your  companion,  if  you  have  a 


42  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

forester  with  you,  will  spring  joyfully.  With  a  few  blows 
with  his  cutlass  he  will  sever  it  as  high  up  as  he  can  reach, 
and  again  below,  some  three  feet  down  ;  and,  while  you  are 
wondering  at  this  seemingly  wanton  destruction,  he  lifts  the 
bar  on  high,  throws  his  head  back,  and  pours  down  his 
thirsty  throat  a  pint  or  more  of  pure  cold  water.  This 
hidden  treasure  is,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  ascending 
sap,  or  rather  the  ascending  pure  rain-water  which  has  been 
taken  up  by  the  roots,  and  is  hurrying  aloft  to  be  elaborat- 
ed into  sap,  and  leaf,  and  flower,  and  fruit,  and  fresh  tissue 
for  the  very  stem  which  it  originally  climbed,  and  therefore 
it  is  that  the  woodman  cuts  the  water- vine  at  the  top  of  the 
piece  which  he  wants  first,  and  not  at  the  bottom,  for  so 
rapid  is  the  ascent  of  the  sap  that  if  he  cut  the  stem  below, 
the  water  would  all  have  fled  upward  before  he  could  have 
cut  it  off  above." 


THE    MONARCH    OF  AFRICAN    FORESTS. 

1.  Is  the  tropical  forests  of  Africa,  extending  across 
the  entire  continent,  one  tree  is  found  of  such  immense 
size  and  longevity  as  to  be  justly  considered  the  monarch 
of  the  forests.  This  is  the  baobab,  or,  as  it  is  called  by  the 
French  settlers  on  the  Senegal,  the  monkey-bread  tree. 
The  trunk  of  this  tree  usually  does  not  exceed  from  fifteen 
to  thirty  feet  in  height,  though  it  sometimes  attains  an 
elevation  of  sixty  feet.  In  girth,  however,  it  reaches  the 
enormous  size  of  forty  to  seventy-five  feet.  The  branches 
are  from  fifty  to  seventy-five  feet  long,  their  extremities 
bending  toward  the  ground  and  often  touching  it,  so  as  to 
completely  conceal  the  trunk.  The  leaves  are  large,  com- 
pound, and  star-shaped,  being  divided  into  five  radiating 
leaflets.  They  are  very  abundant,  and  of  a  dark-green 
color,  the  entire  foliage  casting  a  dense  shade. 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR   WAYS.  43 

2.  At  a  little  distance  the  baobab  presents  the  appear- 
ance of  a  dome  of  verdure,  covering  an  area  of  one  hundred 
and  sixty  feet  in  diameter.  Adanson,  the  first  naturalist 
who  studied  and  described  this  tree,  estimated  that  some  of 


The  Baobab- Tree. 


the  specimens  that  he  observed  were  at  least  six  thousand 
years  old.  This  is  now  considered  an  exaggeration,  though 
undoubtedly  some  of  them  have  reached  an  immense  age, 
rivaling  in  this  particular  the  big  trees  of  California  and 


44  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  eucalyptus  of  Australia.  Livingston  estimated  that 
one  of  these  trees  which  he  examined  was  fourteen  hun- 
dred years  old. 

3.  In  tenacity  of  life  this  tree  is  remarkable.     Having 
once  obtained  a  foothold  in  the  soil,  it  retains  its  position 
with  great  persistence.     When  stripped  of  its  bark,  a  new 
growth  will  appear ;  and  when  the  entire  inside  of  the 
trunk  has  decayed,  or  has  been  eaten  out  by  insects,  the 
thin  outer  section  retains  sufficient  vitality  to  give  nurture 
to  the  foliage  above.     Fire  will  not  destroy  it,  and  even 
after  it  has  fallen  it  continues  to  grow  in  length,  the  roots 
retaining  their  vitality,  and  sending  up  new  shoots. 

4.  Like  the  palm,  the  baobab  is  remarkable  as  furnish- 
ing a  great  variety  of  articles  useful  to  man.     The  fruit, 
which  grows  in  great  abundance,  is  soft  and  pulpy,  and  is 
inclosed  in  a  long,  dark-green,  woody  pod  about  the  size  of 
a  quart  bottle.     It  is  edible,  of  an  agreeable  flavor,  but 
rather  dry.     It  forms  an  important  part  of  the  food  of  the 
natives,  and  is  transported  across  the  desert,  where  it  makes 
its  appearance  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.     The 
pulp  between  the  seeds  tastes  like  cream  of  tartar,  and  is 
used  by  the  natives  for  its  medicinal  qualities  in  case  of 
fevers.     From  the  fibers  of  the  bark  a  strong  cord  is  manu- 
factured, and  to  obtain  this  material  the  tree  is  frequently 
stripped  of  its  entire  bark,  which,  however,  does  not  appear 
to  disturb  its  growth,  as  a  new  bark  directly  makes  its  ap- 
pearance. 

5.  The  superstitions  connected  with  this  tree  are  of  an 
entirely  different  character  from  those  associated  with  the 
banyan  by  the  natives  of  India.     The  musicians  and  poets 
who  preside  at  all  ceremonies  performed  at  the  tombs  of 
the  negro  kings  are  called  Guerrots.     During  their  life, 
their  talent  gives  them  influence  and  a  certain  kind  of  re- 
spect ;  but  they  are  regarded  as  sorcerers,  and  after  death 
the  respect  is  succeeded  by  a  deep-seated  horror  for  their 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  45 

supposed  connection  with  malignant  powers.  The  people 
think  that  if  one  of  these  evil  beings  were  to  be  buried  in 
the  earth,  like  the  bodies  of  other  men,  celestial  vengeance 
would  descend  upon  all  those  who  committed  the  sacrilege. 
So,  to  avert  divine  wrath,  they  select  the  trunk  of  some 
baobab-tree  already  partially  hollowed  out  by  insects  or 
fungi,  increase  the  cavity  to  a  sufficient  size,  and  in  it  sus- 
pend the  body  of  the  Guerrot,  closing  the  entrance  with  a 
plank.  The  body  here  becomes  perfectly  dry,  and  is  changed 
into  a  mummy  without  further  preparation. 

6.  In  ancient  Egypt  the  body  was  regarded  as  sacred, 
and  an  endeavor  was  made  to  preserve  it  for  all  time.  To 
this  end  the  bodies  of  the  great  were  embalmed,  and  de- 
posited in  tombs  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock.  In  central 
Africa  the  body  is  preserved  through  detestation  instead  of 
reverence,  the  baobab-tree  taking  the  place  of  the  rocky 
sepulchre.  Mgui&). 


THE    SACRED   TREE   OF    INDIA. 

1.  THE  majestic  banyan-tree  is  lord  of  the  forests  of 
India,  and  is  one  of  the  marvels  of  the  vegetable  world. 
Its  seeds  are  carried  by  the  winds  or  dropped  by  the  birds 
in  crevices  in  the  rocks,  or  even  in  buildings  or  on  trees, 
and,  when  there  is  sufficient  moisture,  they  germinate  and 
send  rootlets  downward  to  the  earth,  where  they  secure  a 
permanent  foothold.     If  the  long  root  reaches  down  from 
the  top  of  a  tree,  it  speedily  enlarges,  and  in  a  short  time  de- 
stroys the  original  stalk  which  gave  it  life  and  nourishment. 

2.  The  banyan  rarely  attains  a  great  height,  from  sixty 
to  a  hundred  feet  being  the  maximum.    During  its  first  hun- 
dred years  it  behaves  very  much  like  other  trees,  develop- 
ing a  sturdy  trunk,  and  an  immense,  dome-like  head  spread- 
ing far  out  on  all  sides.     Its  leaves  are  smooth  and  glossy, 


46 


NATURAL  HTSTORY  READER. 


and  of  a  bright  green.  Its  foliage  is  so  dense  as  to  afford  a 
cooling  shade  and  effectually  prevent  the  growth  of  under- 
brush. It  produces  an  abundance  of  mild,  insipid,  fig-like 
fruit,  which  is  used  both  for  food  and  for  medicinal  purposes. 
3.  At  the  end  of  the  first  century  of  its  life  the  banyan 
begins  to  exhibit  its  eccentric  propensities.  Its  arms  have 
grown  so  long  as  to  be  no  longer  capable  of  supporting 


The  Banyan-Tree. 

themselves,  and  they  bend  downward  until  their  ends  rest 
upon  the  earth.  Now,  the  little  twigs,  which  have  hitherto 
been  contented  with  producing  leaves,  send  forth  rootlets 
which  find  lodgment  in  the  ground  ;  the  sap,  changing  its 
direction  and  flowing  upward,  converting  the  small  stems 
into  trunks,  and  affording  an  effectual  support  to  the  over- 
weighted branches.  The  great  horizontal  masses  are  now 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WA  YS.  tf 

supported  at  both  extremities,  as  a  bridge  by  its  piers. 
The  main  limbs  reach  gigantic  size,  and  send  out  lateral 
branches,  which,  in  turn,  take  root  and  form  new  sup- 
ports. These  new  trunks  often  rival  or  surpass  the  par- 
ent stem,  and  this  process  continues  for  ages,  until  the 
tree  covers  acres  of  ground,  and  presents  the  appearance 
of  a  marvelous  colonnade  of  stems  supporting  numberless 
living  rafters,  and  all  covered  with  a  dense  canopy  of  per- 
ennial green. 

4.  There  is  a  banyan  in  Ceylon  which  measures  fifteen 
hundred  feet  around  the  branches — more  than  a  quarter  of 
a  mile.     Under  the  shade  of  a  still  larger  tree  on  the  banks 
of  the  Nerbuddah,  in  India,  which  measures  a  circuit  of 
twenty-two  hundred  feet,  whose  large  trunks  number  three 
hundred  and  fifty-four,  whose  small  ones  exceed  three  thou- 
sand, and  whose  foliage  makes  a  home  for  thousands  of  birds 
and  monkeys,  the  chief  of  Putnah  used  to  encamp  in  mag- 
nificent style. 

5.  Here  he  would  entertain  his  guests  on  his  tiger-hunt- 
ing expeditions.     Separate  tents  were  gorgeously  fitted  up 
as  bed-chambers,  and   each   guest  having  one  had  three 
servants  at  his  command.     Saloons,  drawing-rooms,  dining- 
rooms,  smoking-rooms,  kitchens  —  all   were   perfectly  ap- 
pointed.     Including  all   the  animals  and  servants,  there 
were  seven  thousand  individuals  in  the  retinue,  yet  the 
great  banyan  easily  sheltered  them  all.     Here,  when  the 
glow  and  flush  of  the  fierce  sun  had  given  way  to  the  cool 
dews  of  evening,  the  guests  of  the  Oriental  prince  sipped 
their  sherbet  or  champagne,  and  watched  the  movements 
of  the  dancing  girls,  while  the  monkeys  chattered  and  the 
night-birds  sang  in  the  leafage  above,  and  the  pale  moon- 
shine glinted  down  through  the  openings  in  the  vast  roof. 

6.  Such  is  the  gigantic  fig-tree  of  India,  truly  one  of 
the  wonders  of  the  world,  and  not  to  be  matched  even  in  a 
country  where  a  hot  sun  combines  with  a  rich  soil  to  pro- 


48  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

duce  the  most  striking  and  luxuriant  forms  of  life.  It  may 
be  safely  asserted  that  some  of  these  trees  now  standing 
were  in  existence  when  Porus  drove  his  squadrons  of  ele- 
phants against  the  Macedonian  phalanx  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  in  the  hope  to  save  his  kingdom  from  the  dominion 
of  the  world's  conqueror. 

7.  The  Hindoos  regard  these  trees  as  sacred,  and  un- 
der their  shade  perform  many  acts  of  religious  signifi- 
cance. It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  banyan  is  frequent- 
ly found  sprouting  up  on  the  spot  where  the  Hindoo 
widow  has  committed  suttee — a  fact  which  causes  the 
ignorant  native  to  regard  it  with  tenfold  superstitious  rev- 
erence. The  natural  explanation  of  this  phenomenon  is, 
that  the  birds,  attracted  to  the  spot  where  the  suttee  is 
performed,  in  search  of  food,  drop  the  seeds,  which  speed- 
ily spring  up  from  the  congenial  soil. 


THE    EUCALYPTUS. 

1.  A  FKEKCH  botanist,  who  accompanied  an  expedi- 
tion in  search  of  the  lost  navigator,  La  Perouse,  about  the 
year  1790,  first  described  a  hitherto  unknown  tree,  which 
he  found  constituting  the  chief  part  of  the  forests  around 
Botany  Bay,  Australia.     From  the  fact  that  the  flower- 
bud  has  on  it  a  cover  not  unlike  the  lid  of  a  tiny  sugar- 
bowl,   he  called  it  the  Eucalyptus — which  means  "well 
covered."     The  shape  of  the  flower-bud  above  was  very 
much  like   the  globular  brass  buttons  then  in   use,  and 
hence  he  gave  to  the  variety  the  specific  name  of  glolulus  ; 
so  the  bluegum-tree  is  known  to-day  in  science  as  the  Eu- 
calyptus globulus. 

2.  As  Australia  and  the  adjacent  islands  became  better 
known,  it  was  found  that  a  large  part  of  the  forests  was 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  49 

composed  of  this  and  similar  trees,  to  which  the  general 
name  of  eucalypts  has  been  applied.  About  one  hundred 
and  fifty  varieties  of  these  trees  have  been  discovered  and 
described.  Most  of  them  are  evergreen,  but  the  leaves 
vary  greatly  in  form  in  the  different  varieties,  some  being 
grass-shaped,  long,  and  narrow,  while  others  are  nearly  as 
broad  as  long.  The  leaf  of  the  E.  globulus  is  of  a  bluish 
green,  and  hence  it  is  popularly  called  the  bluegum-tree. 
They  have  great  tenacity  of  life,  and  grow  to  an  immense 
size.  The  largest  tree  that  is  known  is  one  in  the  province 
of  Victoria,  which  measures  four  hundred  and  eighty  feet 
in  height,  which  is  considerably  higher  than  the  tallest  of 
the  sequoias  of  California. 

3.  These  trees  all  belong  to  the  great  order  of  myrtle- 
blooms,  and  are  cousins  to  the  pomegranate,  pimento,  and 
clove.    They  yield  an  abundance  of  a  highly  aromatic  gum, 
which  gives  to  them  the  universal  common  name  of  gum- 
tree.     This  gum,  and  the  oils  and  resins  obtained  by  distill- 
ing the  bark  and  wood,  have  valuable  medicinal  proper- 
ties.    Diffused  in  the  sick-room,  they  purify  the  air  and 
germinate  ozone. 

4.  The  eucalypts  are  among  the  most  rapid  of  grow- 
ers.    Bluegums  have  been  known  to  reach  the  height  of 
sixty-five  feet,  with  a  trunk  more  than  three  feet  and  a 
half  in  circumference,  in  seven  years.     But,  with  all  this 
rapidity  of  growth,  the  young  eucalypt  seems  doggedly  re- 
solved, for  some  years  at  least,  to  resemble  its  parent  in 
no  particular  save  in  the  aromatic  odor  of  its  leaves.     The 
stem  of  the  young  tree  is  four-sided  ;  the  leaves  have  no 
appreciable  petiole,  half  inclose  the  stalk,  and  are  placed 
opposite  each   other.      They  are  also  set  at  right  angles 
with  the  pairs  above   and  below.      The  leaves  are  wide 
and  heart-shaped,  and  the  two  sides  are  essentially  differ- 
ent, the  upper  being  exposed  to  the  sun,  and  the  lower 
kept  in  the  shade  and  containing  the  breathing  organs. 

3 


50  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

The  leaves  are  thin,  soft,  and  succulent,  and  of  a  bright 
grassy  green. 

5.  The  old  tree  seems  to  eschew  all  the  indiscretions  of 
its  youth.  The  stalk  becomes  round,  the  leaves  elongate, 
have  a  long  petiole,  and  are  placed  alternate  on  the  stalk. 
But  a  greater  change  takes  place  in  the  character  of  the 
leaf.  It  now  becomes  thick,  leathery,  dry,  and  of  a  bluish 
green ;  and  it  turns  so  that  one  edge  is  up,  exposing  both 
sides  equally  to  the  sunlight.  To  accomplish  this  change 
of  position,  the  petiole  actually  twists  itself  as  if  it  knew 
what  it  was  about.  The  two  sides  of  the  leaf  now  become 
alike  both  in  organs  and  function.  The  ribs  and  veins  are 
alike  prominent  on  each  side,  much  as  if  the  roof  of  a  house 
should  have  beams  and  rafters  inside  and  out.  Breathing 
organs  appear  on  both  sides,  and  this  is  what  gives  to  the 
eucalyptus  one  of  its  most  peculiar  characteristics.  Both 
sides  of  the  leaf  work  equally,  and  the  tree  becomes  a 
double-cylinder  pumping-engine,  instead  of  a  single  one  as 
in  xother  trees. 

tk-  The  wood  of  the  tree  when  freshly  cut  is  soft ;  but 
the  gum  soon  hardens,  and  it  becomes  well-nigh  imperish- 
able. The  terrible  ship-worm,  which  destroys  most  timber 
exposed  to  its  ravages,  lets  it  alone,  making  it  invaluable 
for  ship-timber,  docks,  and  all  marine  structures.  It  is 
proof  against  that  fearful  scourge  of  tropical  regions,  the 
white  ant ;  hence,  in  India  it  is  used  for  the  sleepers  of 
railways  and  a  multitude  of  other  purposes.  It  furnishes 
valuable  timber  to  the  wheelwright,  carpenter,  and  cabinet- 
maker. While  the  tree  usually  holds  tenaciously  to  its 
leaves,  it  readily  sheds  its  outer  bark,  and  such  immense 
pieces  are  sometimes  detached  that  the  natives  make  a  rude 
hut  from  a  single  piece.  It  is  specially  valuable  for  shingles, 
as  it  does  not  easily  burn,  and  the  gum  makes  it  lasting 
when  exposed  to  the  air.  The  bark  of  many  species  is  ser- 
viceable for  paper-making. 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.  51 

7.  With  all  its  utilities,  the  eucalyptus  is  most  widely 
known  for  its  sanitary  qualities.     From  observation  and 
experiment,  it  seems  to  deserve  the  name  by  which  it  is 
often  known — the  fever-tree.     Its  hygienic  qualities  have 
long  been  known  in  Australia,  and  this  has  led  to  exten- 
sive plantings  in  malarious  regions  where  the  climate  will 
permit  their  growth.      They  are  semi-tropical,    and  the 
ordinary  varieties  can  not  endure  the  cold.     They  nour- 
ish well  in   California,  and  in  other  like  warm  regions. 
A  plantation  in  Algiers  cleared  a  region  of  miasma  where, 
previous  to  its  introduction,  the  French  garrison  had  to 
be  changed  every  five  days  on  account  of  malaria.     Some 
of   the   most   unhealthful   parts  of   the   Campagna   near 
Rome  have  been  rendered  inhabitable  by  the  eucalyptus 
groves. 

8.  The  sanitary  effects  of  the  eucalyptus  are  twofold. 
From  the  peculiar  structure  of  its  leaves,  as  above  shown, 
it  has  an  enormous  pumping  power,  it  being  estimated 
that  a  tree  will  eliminate  from  a  swampy  soil  eight  times 
its  own  weight  in  water  every  twenty-four  hours.      This 
moisture  is  delivered  to  the  atmosphere  in  the  condition 
of  pure  water,  all  deleterious  substances  being  strained 
out  by  the  tissues  of  the  wood.     In  addition  to  this  health- 
ful drainage,  the  aroma  of  the  leaves  acts  beneficially  in 
two  ways :   first,  by  directly  furnishing  an  invigorating 
tonic  through  the  lungs,  and,  second,  by  creating  ozone, 
and  thus  indirectly  stimulating  healthful  action  of  the 
nerves  and  tissues. 

9.  The  demonstrated  value  of  the  eucalyptus  has  made 
its  spread  very  rapid,  so  that  it  now  has  become  quite  com- 
mon in  all  civilized  countries  where  the  conditions  are  fa- 
vorable to  its  growth.    By  care  in  cultivation,  it  will  doubt- 
less  in  time  become  acclimated  -to  colder  regions.     But 
restricted  as  it  now  is,  its  value  is  so  great  that  it  may  be 
considered  as  the  great  tree  of  the  future. 


52  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


THE   SENSITIVE-PLANT. 

1.  A  SENSITIVE-PLANT  in  a  garden  grew, 
And  the  young  winds  fed  it  with  silver  dew, 
And  it  opened  its  fan-like  leaves  to  the  light, 
And  closed  them  beneath  the  kisses  of  night. 

2.  And  the  Spring  arose  on  the  garden  fair, 
And  the  Spirit  of  Love  fell  everywhere  ; 

And  each  flower  and  herb  on  earth's  dark  breast 
Eose  from  the  dreams  of  its  wintry  rest. 

3.  But  none  ever  trembled  and  panted  with  bliss 
In  the  garden,  the  field,  or  the  wilderness, 

Like  a  doe  in  the  noontide  with  love's  sweet  want, 
As  the  companionless  sensitive-plant. 

4.  The  snowdrop,  and  then  the  violet, 

Arose  from  the  ground  with  warm  rain  wet, 
And  their  breath  was  mixed  with  fresh  odor  sent 
From  the  turf,  like  the  voice  and  the  instrument. 

5.  Then  the  pied  windflowers  and  tulip  tall, 
And  narcissi,  the  fairest  among  them  all, 
Who  gaze  on  their  eyes  in  the  stream's  recess, 
Till  they  die  of  their  own  dear  loveliness  ; 

6.  And  the  Naiad-like  lily  of  the  vale, 

Whom  youth  makes  so  fair  and  passion  so  pale, 
That  the  light  of  its  tremulous  bells  is  seen 
Through  their  pavilions  of  tender  green  ; 

7.  And  the  hyacinth  purple,  and  white,  and  blue, 
Which  flung  from  its  bells  a  sweet  peal  anew 
Of  music  so  delicate,  soft,  and  intense, 

It  was  felt  like  an  odor  within  the  sense  ; 


STRANGE  PLANTS  AND   THEIR   WA  YS.  53 

8.  And  the  rose  like  a  nymph  to  the  bath  addressed, 
Which  unveiled  the  depth  of  her  glowing  breast, 
Till,  fold  after  fold,  to  the  fainting  air 

The  soul  of  her  beauty  and  love  lay  bare  ; 

9.  And  the  wand-like  lily,  which  lifted  up, 
As  a  Maenad,  its  moonlight-colored  cup, 
Till  the  fiery  star,  which  is  its  eye, 

Gazed  through  the  clear  dew  on  the  tender  sky  ; 

10.  And  the  jessamine  faint,  and  the  sweet  tuberose, 
The  sweetest  flower  for  scent  that  blows  ; 
And  all  rare  blossoms  from  every  clime 
Grew  in  that  garden  in  perfect  prime. 

Shelley. 


PART   III. 
LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA. 

ANIMATED  JELLIES. 

1.  THE  visitor  to  the  sea-shore  will  rarely  fail  to  find 
among  the  growing  sea- weeds  little  plant-like  clusters,  which 
at  first  appear   to  be  vegetable,    but  they   are  really  the 
curious   little    sea-animals    called    hydroids   or  jelly-fish. 
From  each   little  plant  there  arise  buds,  which  soon  en- 
large, float  away,  and  become  beautiful  jelly-fish.     There 
are  other  hydroids,  in  the  shape  of  bells,  and  some  which 
appear  like  miniature  trees  with  all   their  foliage  massed 
at  the  top,  and  from  beneath  which  there  depend  bunches, 
as  it  were,  of  grapes  or  other  fruit.     These  fruit-like  clus- 
ters are  jelly-fishes   that  stick  fast,  instead  of  detaching 
themselves  and  becoming  free  jelly-fishes,  as  in  some  other 
varieties. 

2.  The  name  medusa  is  applied  to  the  most  numerous, 
remarkable,  and  beautiful  varieties  of  the  jelly-fish.    These 
graceful  animals  may  be  observed  anywhere,  in  our  summer 
waters,  generally  not  far  from  the  shore.     Seeming  to  the 
careless  sight  to  be  mere  floating  plants,  a  closer  inspection 
discovers  in    them  animal   forms  of  the  rarest  beauty  of 
form  and  color,  that  sail  hither  and  thither,  and  appar- 
ently have  even  a  certain  power  of  controlling  their  move- 
ments against  the  set  of  wind  and  current. 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  55 

3.  The  general  name  of  the  medusa  was  applied  to 
this  animal  on  account  of  the  snake-like  filaments  which 
it  possesses,  highly  suggestive  of  the  serpent  locks  of  the 
Greek  Medusa,  one  of  the  Gorgons  ;  perhaps,  also,  from 


The  Medusa. 


the  danger  of  contact  which  all  too-curious  observers  in- 
cur. The  property  common  to  nearly  all  the  jelly-fish — 
that  of  a  most  severe  and  painful  sting  —  is  in  some  of 
the  medusae  a  paralyzing  power  against  which  the  strongest 


56  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

men  stand  no  chance.  It  is  believed  by  scientific  men 
that  many  of  the  cases  of  the  sudden  drowning  of  expe- 
rienced swimmers  is  owing  in  as  large  degree  to  the  attack 
of  these  beautiful  and  inoffensive-looking  sea-creatures  as  to 
cramp. 

4.  Floating  on  the  bosom  of   the  waters,   the  medusa 
resembles  a  bell,   an  umbrella,  or,  better  still,  a  floating 
mushroom,   the   stalk  of   which   has  been  separated   into 
lobes  more  or  less  divergent,  sinuous,  twisted,  shriveled, 
fringed,  the  edges  of   the  cup  being  delicately   cut,    and 
provided  with  long  thread-like  appendages,  which  descend 
vertically  into  the  water  like  the  drooping  branches  of  the 
weeping  willow. 

5.  The  gelatinous  substance  of  which  the  body  of  the 
medusa  is  formed  is  sometimes  as  clear  as  crystal,  some- 
times opaline,  and  sometimes  bright  blue  or  pale  rose-color. 
Indeed,  almost  every  color  of  the  solar  spectrum  is  repre- 
sented in  these  little  creatures.    The  shining  tissue,  decked 
out  in  the  finest  tints,  is  so  fragile  that,  when  washed  up 
on  the  beach,  it  disappears  in  the  sun  without  leaving  a 
trace  behind.      Yet  these   living  soap-bubbles  of  the  sea 
make  long  voyages,  and  in  some  parts  of  the  ocean  abound 
in  such  enormous  quantity  that  they  make  the  principal 
food  of  the  greatest  of  sea-animals,  the  whale. 

6.  They  swim  by  their  long  tentacles  and  by  contraction 
and  dilatation  of  their  bodies  ;  and  the  ancients,  from  this 
peculiar  movement  of  the  medusae,  named  them  sea-lungs. 
Wandering  over  the  seas  in  immense  battalions,  if  an  ob- 
stacle arrests  them  or  an  enemy  touches  them,  the  umbrella 
contracts,  the  tentacles  are  folded  up,  and  the  timid  ani- 
mals sink  into  the  depths  of  the  ocean. 

7.  The  medusas  are  furnished  with  a  mouth,  placed  ha- 
bitually in  the  middle  of  the  umbrella-like  head  ;  a  mouth, 
too,  which  is  rarely  empty,  for  the  animal  is  voracious  in 
the  extreme,  devouring  even  shell-fish,  and  attacking  sue- 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  57 

cessfully  fish  four  or  five  inches  in  length.  In  respect  to 
size  the  medusae  vary  immensely,  some  being  very  small, 
while  others  attain  more  than  a  yard  in  diameter. 

8.  They  breathe  through  the  skin,  and  the  organs  of 
digestion  are  very  peculiar.  The  walls  of  the  stomach  are 
furnished  with  a  great  multitude  of  vibrating  hairy  appen- 
dages, which  secrete  a  juice  supposed  to  decompose  the  food 
and  make  it  digestible.  Scientists  also  assert  that  these 
creatures  have  a  distinct  circulation,  organs  of  sense,  and 
something  like  a  nervous  system.  The  medusae,  for  the 
most  part,  reproduce  themselves.*  Few  fishes  are  more 
marvelous  in  their  construction,  more  beautiful  and  grace- 
ful in  form,  than  the  medusa,  and  there  is  none  which  can 
be  more  easily  studied  by  the  frequenter  of  the  sea-side. 

World  of  Wonders. 


FLOWERS   OF  THE    SEA. 

1.  OUR  object  now  is  to  say  something  of  one  of  these 
flower-like  types  of  marine  life,  namely,  the  sea-anemone. 
It  is  significant,  as  showing  the  suggestiveness  of  these 
creatures,  that,  however  diverse  the  nomenclature  of  sci- 
ence may  be  in  regard  to  them,  it  is  often  almost  poetical, 
and  the  words  used  are  always  expressive,  and  even  possess 
pictorial  significance.     De  Blainville  named  them  Zoantha- 
ria,  from  which  comes  animal-flower.     Dr.  Johnson's  term 
took  a  wider  latitude,  and,  although  quite  formidable-look- 
ing, and  not  in  the  best  taste,  was  very  significant.     He 
gave  the  name  Zoophyte  heUanthoidea,  which  is  to  say,  the 
sunflower-like  animal-plant. 

2.  In  these  terms  the  animal  nature  and  the  flower-like 

*  By  simply  detaching  a  portion  of  its  body,  each  part  becomes  a  per- 
fect animal. 


58  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

form  are  intended.  The  creature  is  really  a  polyp,  a  soft, 
almost  pulpy,  sac-like  structure,  with  a  fringe  of  tentacles, 
like  a  halo  of  rays,  around  the  upper  end  ;  in  the  center  of 
the  circular  fringe,  the  mouth,  or  oral  aperture,  being  situ- 
ated. Hence,  it  is  often  spoken  of  as  an  actinia,  which 
really  means  possessing  rays.  The  word  is  now  worked 
into  another  word,  Actinozoa,  meaning  rayed  animals,  that 
is  to  say,  animals  with  rays  around  an  oral  disk.  But  the 
term  is  used  to  designate  a  class  ;  hence,  it  includes  all  the 
polyps,  those  that  construct  coral,  and  the  others.  This 
class  is  again  divided  into  several  orders,  one  of  which  is 
named  Zoantharia,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the  Heli- 
anthoid  polyps.  It  is  in  this  order  that  the  actinia  proper 
is  found  ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  there  that  we  must  find  our 
sea-anemone. 

3.  Taken  in  the  hand,  the  sea-anemone  imparts  a  slip- 
pery feeling,  and  it  seems  to  have  the  consistency  of  leather. 
As  the  actinia  erects  itself,  attached  to  a  rock  or  stone,  it 
looks  like  one  of  the  purses  formerly  fashionable,  if  one 
such  could  be  made  to  stand  of  itself  erect,  and  have  the 
frill  around  the  upper  end  to  project  in  a  circle.     But  we 
must  be  more  particular  than  this.     The  upright  part,  that 
which  is  called  by  naturalists  the  column,  is  hollow,  like  a 
sack.     Its  base  is  really  a  sucking  surface,  enabling  it  to 
adhere  to  any  hard  object.     By  this  sucking  base  it  can 
glide,  or  travel  along,  much  like  a  snail. 

4.  And,  as  it  thus  moves,  it  can  keep  its  flower  spread 
out,  and  its  many  tentacles  in  constant  play — in  fact,  fish- 
ing on  the  way.     Their  movement  is,  however,  very  slow. 
Indeed,  a  "snail-pace"  would  be  alarmingly  fast  for  an 
actinia.     We   have  watched   them   attentively,  and   have 
found  that  an  inch  in  an  hour  was  a  very  satisfactory  per- 
formance.   At  the  top  is  an  opening,  called  the  oral  cavity, 
which,  in  the  rosea,  is  surrounded  just  inside  with  a  bead- 
ing of  little  dots.     This  opening  may  be  called  the  mouth, 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA. 


59 


because  the  food  is  passed  at  this  aperture  into  the  stomach, 
which  is  a  cylindrical  sac,  suspended  below,  and  reaching 
about  half-way  down  the  great  cavity  of  the  column. 
Around  the  oral  cavity,  and  external  to  it,  is  a  plain  sur- 


Sea- Anemones. 


face,  which  is  technically  known  as  the  "disk."  Around 
the  disk,  on  its  outer  edge,  is  the  fringe  of  tentacles.  Each 
one  of  these  is  a  little  hollow  cylinder,  opening  into  the 
great  cavity  of  the  column  immediately  under  the  edge  of 


60  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  disk.  In  fact,  these  tentacles,  or  feelers,  connect  with 
the  interior  of  the  stem  of  the  anemone,  just  as  the  fingers 
of  a  glove  do  with  the  interior  of  the  same. 

5.  Let  me  invite  you  to  a  sight  I  have  many  times  be- 
held.    I  have  in  captivity  a  hungry  sea-flower.     Knowing 
well  what  suits  its  palate,  I  take  a  delicate  morsel  like  a 
pilule,  and  let  it  fall  into  the  water.     It  descends  upon  the 
waving  petals,  or  tentacula,  on  the  point  of  one  of  which 
the  pretty  creature  has  caught  it  in  an  instant.     How  deli- 
cate the  adjustment  upon  its  more  than  fairy  fingers  !    For 
a  few  moments  it  is  balanced  with  the  nicest  poise  on  that 
dactylic  petal.     Ah !   a  voracious   and  unmannerly  little 
bummer  of  a  minnow  sees  the  delicious  morsel,  and  makes 
a  rapid  dash  to  snatch  it  from  my  pet.     "  Good  !  good  ! 
Well  done,  my  bonnie  ! "    I  did  not  see  the  slightest  motion 
of  that  indignant  flower-creature  ;  yet  assuredly  there  was 
a  movement,  and  an  effective  one,  too  :  for  the  zoophyte 
had  shot  one  of  its  invisible  shafts,  and  the  ichthyic  thief 
dashes  off  like  one  frantic  with  pain. 

6.  Is  he  hurt  ?    Likely.    His  is  an  urticated  experience. 
He  is  stung  in  the  snout !     See  how  he  seems  to  shake  his 
nose  !     He  fairly  seems  to  sneeze  again,  and  actually  con- 
ducts himself  much  like  a  puppy  that,  uninvited,  has  put 
his  nose  into  a  bowl  of  hot  soup.     Ah,  ha  !     He  is  rubbing 
his  fishy  proboscis  against  a  frond  of  sea-lettuce.     Perhaps 
the  salad  may  cool  his  burning  paini    Mr.  Fish  soon  recov- 
ers his  equanimity  of  mind ;  and  it  is  observable  that  his 
deference  to  Mrs.  Actinia  since  that  affair  has  been  of  a 
decidedly  distant  character. 

7.  Generally  the  sea-anemone  will  not  spread  her  beau- 
tiful form  in  a  bright  light.     Often,  when  all  seemed  sulky 
and  there  was  a  general  collapse,  we  have  restored  the  whole 
coterie  to  good-humor,  simply  by  covering  up  the  aquaria 
for  an  hour  or  two,  and  then  uncovering,  when  the  flowers 
will  fully  open.     It  was  a  great  transformation  to  see,  when 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  61 

this  change  took  place  with  our  favorite — a  fine,  large,  fawn- 
colored  one,  obtained  from  Newport.  When  in  health- 
ful expansion  it  was  larger  than  a  good-sized  dahlia  ;  and, 
although  of  a  subdued  neutral  tint,  yet  in  form  and  color 
we  thought  our  marine  flower  the  superior  of  its  terrestrial 
rival. 

8.  Somewhere  we  read  the  lucubration  of  a  philosopher 
that  there  was  no  humor  in  Nature,  but  all  was  serious. 
The  observation  struck  us  as  very  learned,  but  very  silly. 
No  humor  in  Nature  ?    Nonsense  !     Come  out  from  your 
candle-light  cogitations  unto  some  real  observations  in  the 
sunny  light  of  Nature's  beaming  face,  and  I  can  show  you 
humor.    Ay,  fun,  if  you  will — yes,  even  practical  jokes.    A 
large  actinia  took  a  notion  to  swallow  a  large  scallop,  which 
it  had  captured.     After  considerable  stretching,  it  got  the 
bivalve  down  into  its  stomach,  and  in  due  time  the  con- 
tained mollusk  was  digested.     But  what  about  the  shell  ? 
Why,  this — it  could  not  get  it  up  again  !     It  was  a  double 
disaster — literally  as  to  the  scallop,  and  metaphorically  as 
to  the  polyp  :   both  were  sadly  taken  in.     Actinia  now 
looked   very  serious — comically  so — like    one  in   an  evil 
strait.     Perhaps  it  felt  as  bad  as  a  hen-pecked  subject,  for 
it  had  got  itself  around  a  pecten,  and  a  pecten  maximus  at 
that.     If  a  guest  at  tea  should  swallow  the  tea-saucer,  mat- 
ters would  look  alarming.     And  this  bolted  scallop  was  as 
big  as  a  saucer. 

9.  The  effect  upon  the  actinia's  lopks  was  ludicrous, 
since  there  was  a  narrow,  bulging,  equatorial  belt,  strongly 
significant  of  an  undue  centrifugal  force  in  activity  at  that 
place.     Get  rid  of  the  saucer  it  could  not ;  so  it  seemed, 
with  a  saucy  air,  to  have  made  up  its  mind  to  resort  to  an 
expediency  that  should  fairly  checkmate  the  strange  exi- 
gency.    And  this  expediency  was  a  change  of  base.     In 
fact,  it  transformed  its  old  base  entirely.     Tentacles  grew 
out  around  it,  an  oval  aperture  appeared,  and,  in  a  word, 


62  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

it  became  a  double  actinia,  and  the  large  scallop-shell  was 
made  a  double  base,  and  was  accepted  ever  after  as  the  de- 
markation  of  the  two  individualities.  No  fun  in  Nature  ? 
If  this,  despite  a  smack  of  sauciness,  was  not  a  practical 
joke  of  the  first  water,  then  bring  out  your  specimen-brick, 
old  Sober-sides  !  ^  8amud  Loe1emodm 


STARS   OF  THE    SEA. 

1.  IF  the  visitor  to  the  sea-shore  will  go  down  among 
the  big  rocks  left  bare  by  the  retiring  tide,  and  will  lift  up 
the  long  sea-weeds  which  hang  from  their  sides,  he  will 
find  the  curious  "star-fishes,"  or  "sea-stars,"  in  some  cases 
in  great  profusion,  and  clinging  to  the  surface  of  the  rock 
so  firmly  that  they  often  leave  some  of  their  locomotive 
suckers  attached  when  too  quickly  lifted  from  their  places. 

2.  When  seen  out  of  water,  the  star-fish  appears  to  have 
no  power  of  motion.     But  such  is  not  the  case,  as  it  moves 
along  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  with  ease.     The  body  so 
gradually  merges  into  the  arms  or  rays  that  one  can  hardly 
tell  where  the  body  ends  and  the  arms  begin.    The  rays  are 
perforated  by  great  numbers  of  membranous  tubes,  which 
issue  from  apertures.    These  are  the  feet  of  the  animal,  and 
consist  of  two  parts — a  bladder-like  portion  within  the  body, 
and  the  tubular  part  projecting  outside  and  terminating  in 
a  disk-shaped  sucker. 

3.  In  progression  the  animal  extends  a  few  of  its  feet, 
attaches  its  suckers  to  the  rocks  or  stones,  and  then,  by 
retracting  its  feet,  draws  the  body  forward.     The  mode  of 
movement  is  something  like  that  of  a  ship  dragging  its 
anchor.     The  arms  are  usually  kept  on  the  same  level,  but 
the  creature  has  the  power  of  raising  any  of  them  to  pass 
over  an  obstruction.    The  pace  is  slow,  but,  like  that  of  the 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA. 


63 


tortoise,  it  is  sure.     The  back  or  upper  part  of  the  star-fish 
is  armed  with  spine-like  projections,  and  is  hard  and  rough, 


Upper  and  Under  View  of  Star-Fish. 

forming  a  kind  of  crusty  shell,  while  the  under  side  is  soft, 
containing  all  the  organs  of  life  and  movement.    The  mouth 


64  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

is  in  the  center  of  the  under  side,  and  an  eye  is  situated  at 
the  end  of  each  of  its  five  rays. 

4.  Star-fishes  are  very  voracious,  and  feed  mainly  on 
mollusks.     They  are  very  destructive  to  oysters  in  many 
places,  and  thus  come  in  direct  competition  with  man  for 
the  possession  of  this  delicious  bivalve.    Instead  of  swallow- 
ing their  food  as  other  animals  do,  they  turn  the  stomach 
out  of  the  mouth  and  over  the  animal  which  they  wish  to 
devour. 

5.  Star-fishes  have  a  wonderful  power  of  reproducing 
lost  parts.     If  an  arm  is  bitten  off  by  a  hungry  fish,  an- 
other grows  in  its  place  ;   and  cases  are  known  where  all 
the  arms  but  one  have  been  detached,  and  the  remaining 
arm  and  central  portion  of  the  body  lived  on  and  repro- 
duced all  the  destroyed  parts. 

6.  One  of  the  most  interesting  traits  about  this  low  or- 
ganized creature  is  its  devotion  to  its  young.     The  eggs 
are  contained  in  little  pouches  at  the  base  of  the  rays  ;  and, 
when  emitted,  the  mother  star,  instead  of  abandoning  them, 
gathers  them  together  and  forms  a  kind  of  protecting  arch 
over  them,  like  a  hen  brooding  her  chickens.     If  the  eggs 
are  accidentally  scattered,  they  are  brought  together  again 
with  great  care. 

7.  In  the  same  localities  inhabited  by  these  star-fishes 
we  often  find  the  "  serpent  stars,"  so  called  because  their 
arms  are  long  and  slender,  and  curl  at  the  end  like  a  ser- 
pent's tail.     They  are  also  called  " brittle  stars,"  because 
they  break  so  easily.     One  curious  feature  about  the  brittle 
stars  is,  that  they  break  not  only  when  they  are  exposed  to 
some  outside  force,  but  they  have  the  power  to  disjoint 
themselves,  and  they  do  so  whenever  they  are  in  danger  of 
capture  or  destruction.     This  ability  and   disposition  to 
commit  suicide  is  shared  by  no  other  animal  with  which 
we  are  acquainted.     But  as  a  compensation,  and  so  that 
the  species  may  not  be  destroyed,  each  part,  in  time,  de- 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA. 


65 


velops  into  a  perfect  animal  with  all  the  parts  complete ; 
so  that  the  self-destruction  is  but  one  step  in  the  process  of 
multiplication. 

8.  Professor  Edward  Forbes  gives  the  following  account 
of  his  efforts  to  capture  a  Luidea,  one  of  the  rarest  species 
of  brittle  stars  :  "  The  first 

time  that  I  took  one  of 
these  creatures  I  succeed- 
ed in  placing  it  entire  in 
my  boat.  Not  having  seen 
one  before,  and  being  ig- 
norant of  its  suicidal  pow- 
ers, I  spread  it  out  on  a 
rowing-bench,  the  better 
to  admire  its  form  and 
colors.  On  attempting  to 
remove  it  for  preservation, 
to  my  surprise  and  disap- 
pointment I  found  only 
an  assemblage  of  detached 
members.  My  conservative  endeavors  were  all  neutralized 
by  its  destructive  exertions  ;  and  the  animal  is  now  badly 
represented  in  my  cabinet  by  a  diskless  arm  and  an  armless 
disk. 

9.  "  The  next  time  I  went  to  dredge  I  determined  not 
to  be  cheated  out  of  my  specimen  a  second  time.     I  carried 
with  me  a  bucket  of  fresh  water,  for  which  the  star-fishes 
evince  a  great  antipathy.    As  I  hoped,  a  Luidea  came  up  in 
the  dredge — a  most  gorgeous  specimen.      As  the  animal 
does  not  generally  break  up  until  it  is  raised  to  the  surface 
of  the  sea,  I  carefully  and  anxiously  plunged  my  bucket 
to  a  level  with  the  dredge's  mouth,  and  softly  introduced 
the  Luidea  into  the  fresh  water.    Whether  the  cold  was  too 
much  for  it,  or  the  sight  of  the  bucket  too  terrific,  I  do  not 
know ;  but  in  a  moment  it  began  to  dissolve  its  corpora- 


Serpent  Star-Fish. 


66  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

tion,  and  I  saw  its  limbs  escaping  through  every  mesh  of 
the  dredge.  In  my  despair,  I  seized  the  largest  piece,  and 
brought  up  the  extremity  of  an  arm  and  a  terminal  eye^ 
the  spinous  eyelids  of  which  opened  and  closed  with  some- 
thing exceedingly  like  a  wink  of  derision." 


BUILDERS    IN    THE   OCEAN. 

1.  IN  the  ocean  within  tropical  regions  are  multitudes  of 
little  sea-animals  resembling  the  sea-anemone  in  structure, 
known  as  coral  polyps.     They  are  made  up  of  gelatinous 
matter,  and  consist  of  a  sack-like  body  with  a  mouth  at 
one  extremity,  surrounded  by  a  row  of  radiating  tentacles. 
These  tentacles  reach  out  and  grasp  the  food  necessary  for 
the  sustenance  of  the  animal  which  the  water  brings.    Un- 
like the  sea-anemone,  the  coral  polyp  is  attached  at  one  ex- 
tremity to  the  rock,  and  has  no  power  of  movement  save 
the  swaying  of  the  body  and  the  reach  of  the  tentacles. 

2.  This  animal  takes  from  the  water  not  only  food,  but 
it  has  the  power  of  taking  up  the  lime  which  is  dissolved  in 
the  water,  and  of  reconverting  it  into  a  solid  substance. 
This  lime  is  deposited  in  part  at  the  bottom  of  its  body 
next  the  rock  to  which  it  is  attached,  and  in  part  between 
the  tissues  of  the  body  itself.    When  the  lime  solidifies,  the 
part  of  the  animal  which  incloses  the  hard  mass  dies,  so 
that  coral  is  at  once  the  framework  and  the  tomb  of  the 
polyp. 

3.  Above  the  solid  part  the  animal  keeps  alive,  so  that 
the  coral  is  constantly  growing  upward  and  outward.      A 
polyp  with  a  single  mouth  multiplies  itself  by  a  kind  of 
budding.     A  small  bunch  will  appear  upon  the  side  of  its 
body,  which  will  soon  develop  into  a  perfect  animal,  with 
mouth  and  tentacles  complete,  as  in  the  original  animal. 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  67 

Successive  buds  will  appear  upon  both  parent  and  child,  un- 
til there  is  formed  a  community  of  polyps,  each  one  perfect 
in  itself,  yet  all  united  by  the  solid  secretions,  and  by  a 
common  cavity  in  the  softer  parts. 

4.  This  figure  represents  one  of  the  immense  variety  of 
coral  products,  showing  the  work  of  the  individual  polyp, 


Coral  Madrepore. 

the  relations  of  one  polyp  with  another,  the  branching  of 
stems,  and  the  general  connections  which  form  the  com- 
munity. The  branch  coral  appears  in  hundreds  of  beauti- 
ful and  fantastic  forms  ;  and,  besides  this,  there  are  varie- 
ties which  are  hard  and  compact,  like  the  ordinary  rocks 
which  we  see  on  land.  In  every  specimen  of  coral  which 


68  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

we  examine,  we  will  find  small  cavities  which  mark  the 
work  of  a  single  polyp,  and  which  give  to  coral  its  char- 
acteristic appearance. 

5.  The  coral-workers  are  found  in  all  the  tropical  seas 
where  the  water  is  shallow  enough  for  their  operations. 
Although  each  one  is  tiny  and  insignificant,  yet  in  the  ag- 
gregate, from  their  vast  numbers  and  ceaseless  workings, 
they  build  up  immense  reefs  in  the  ocean.     Their  building 
goes  on  in  the  water  from  the  surface  to  a  depth  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet,  the  hardier  varieties  building  be- 
low, and  the  tender  ones  carrying  on  the  work  successively 
above.      The  necessary  conditions  in  regard  to  depth  of 
water  are  found  only  in  the  vicinity  of  the  land,  and  hence 
the  coral-workers  are  found  near  the  coasts  of  continents 
and  islands  in  tropical  regions. 

6.  In  many  parts  of  the  ocean,  and  especially  in  por- 
tions of  the  Pacific,  long-continued  investigation  has  shown 
that  the  land   is  gradually  sinking.     Among   the  islands, 
the  low  lands  along  the  shore  will  first  disappear,  and  it 
thus  happens  that  the  coral  rock  constructed  next  to  the 
land  is  gradually  changed  to  a  reef  at  some  distance  from 
the  land.    The  coral  polyps  meantime  continue  to  build  up- 
ward, keeping  the  coral  rock  nearly  even  with  the  surface, 
and  this  is  changed  to  dry  land  above  the  surface  by  the 
dashing  of  the  waves,  which  break  off  fragments  and  pile 
them  upon  the  top  of  the  undisturbed  portion  of  the  rock. 

7.  Some  of  the  islands  have  only  sunk  a  little  way,  leav- 
ing a  reef  partially  or  entirely  inclosing  it  at  a  distance 
varying  from  half  a  mile  to  several  miles  from  the  land ; 
some  have  sunk  so  that  only  the  tops  of  the  hills  appear 
above  the  water,  the  coral-reef  appearing  now  to  surround 
several  islands  ;  and  some  of  the  islands  have  entirely  dis- 
appeared, leaving  a  ring  of  coral-reef  inclosing  a  lagoon, 
known  as  a  lagoon-island,  or  atoll. 

8.  These   circular  reefs  are  found  from   one   mile  to 


LOW  LIFE  IN   THE  SEA. 


69 


one  hundred  miles  in  diameter.  The  ring  is  usually  from 
half  a  mile  to  one  mile  in  width,  with  openings  on  the  lee- 
ward side,  through  which  vessels  may  pass.  Seeds  of  plants 


An  Atoll. 

are  brought  to  these  reefs  by  the  waves  and  by  birds,  and 
there  springs  up  a  vegetation  which  covers  the  barren  rocks 
and  converts  the  reefs  into  lands  suitable  for  human  habita- 
tion. A  coral-reef  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  extend- 
ing from  the  Caroline  Islands  toward  Australia,  is  said  to 
be  continuous  for  five  thousand  miles,  rivaling  in  extent 
the  great  mountain-ranges  of  the  world.  . 

9.  This  bit  of  animal  life,  which  is  but  little  more  than 
a  speck  of  animated  jelly,  is  thus  seen  to  be  a  necessary  link 
in  the  chain  of  causes  which  are  slowly  but  surely  changing 
the  whole  surface  of  the  earth.  The  rains  fall  upon  the 
land  and  form  streams,  which  channel  their  way  to  the 
sea.  The  water,  percolating  through  the  soil,  slowly  dis- 
solves the  lime  of  the  rocks,  the  solution  forming  one  of 
the  constituents  of  sea-water.  Day  by  day  the  mountains 


70  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

diminish,  and  the  continents  become  less.  As  a  compensa- 
tion to  these  destructive  forces,  the  coral- workers  take  up 
this  solution  and  reconvert  it  into  a  solid  form,  construct- 
ing new  lands  and  laying  the  foundations  for  new  conti- 
nents. 


CORALS,    AND    HOW   THEY   ARE    STUDIED. 

1.  NOT  very  many   years  ago  naturalists  knew  little 
about  corals.     The  reef-building  corals  have  their  home  in 
warm  tropical  seas,  and  they  were  chiefly  known  in  Europe 
through  the  dried  specimens  brought  home  by  seafaring 
men  and  given   to  their  friends  or  stored  in  museums. 
These  were  either  the  solid,  rocky  masses  called  coral-heads, 
or  fragments  of  the  lighter  branching  kinds  known  as  fan- 
corals  and  the  like.     There  was  a  vague  idea  that  these 
masses  were  originally  inhabited  by  animals,  but  no  one 
knew  anything  of  their  nature,  their  process  of  growth,  or 
their  appearance  when  alive.     Even  the  red  Mediterranean 
coral,  so  famous  on  account  of  the  ornaments  made  from  it, 
was  more  familiar  to  the  fisherman  who  brought  it  up  from 
the  sea,  and  to  the  jeweler  who  wrought  it  into  a  thousand 
attractive  forms,   than  to  the  naturalist.     Indeed,  there 
were  few  naturalists  in  those  days  living  upon  the  sea- shore  ; 
their  homes  were  chiefly  in  the  central  parts  of  Europe,  in 
the  large  cities,  where  they  found  occupation  as  professors 
and  teachers  in  the  universities,  and  they  depended  chiefly 
upon  museum  collections  for  their  knowledge  of  marine 
animals.     The  existence  of  the  host  of  minute  creatures 
living  singly  or  in  communities  along  every  sea-shore  was 
hardly  known  to  science  in  those  days. 

2.  A  French  physician  residing  at  Montpelier,  Peyssonel 
by  name,  first  discovered  the  nature  of  these  singular  little 
beings.     Having  his  home  near  the  coast  of  the  Mediter- 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  71 

ranean,  he  could  keep  his  specimens  alive,  and  study  them 
in  their  natural  condition.  He  made  his  investigations 
upon  corals,  as  well  as  upon  what  are  called  Hydroids. 
This  name  is  given  to  a  variety  of  small  animals  most  of 
which  live  in  communities.  The  facts  discovered  by  Peys- 
sonel  were  so  interesting  that  naturalists  began  to  feel,  as 
they  had  never  felt  before,  the  importance  of  studying  these 
seemingly  insignificant  creatures,  and  of  studying  them 
alive  in  their  natural  element.  Since  then  a  vast  deal  has 
been  learned  about  them  ;  and  it  was  in  the  course  of  these 
researches  that  the  corals  were  found  to  be  allied  with  all 
the  radiated  animals,  to  have  essentially  the  same  structure 
as  the  sea-anemones,  star-fishes,  sea-urchins,  and  countless 
smaller  animals  belonging  to  the  group  of  Hydroids. 

3.  In  learning  about  the  corals,  we  ought  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  men  who  have  taught  us  the  most  about 
them.    The  first  who  studied  the  coral  islands  of  the  Pacific 
was  Charles  Darwin,  the  great  English  naturalist,  and  he 
wrote  a  charming  and  excellent  book  concerning  them  upon 
his  return  home  from  the  exploring  expedition  in  the  ship 
Beagle  around  the  world.    Professor  Dana,  of  Yale  College, 
who  accompanied  the  United  States  exploring  expedition, 
made  corals  his  especial  study,  and  published  an  elaborate 
and  valuable  book  concerning  them,  which  is  now  consid- 
ered an  authority.    And,  lastly,  Milne-Edwards,  the  French 
naturalist,  though  he  has  not  had  the  living  specimens  be- 
fore him,  has  taught  us  more  than  any  onje  else  of  the  hard 
parts  of  these  animals — that  is,  of  those  portions  of  their 
structure  which  after  their  death  are  still  preserved  in  the 
solid  masses  built  by  them. 

4.  Until  he  came  to  this  country,  Mr.   Agassiz,  like 
most  European  naturalists,  had  lived  far  from  the  sea-shore. 
It  is  true  that  in  the  heart  of  Switzerland  he  had  gathered 
marine  shells  and  corals,  and  had  studied  them  ;  but  they 
were  the  dead  shells  and  corals  of  past  ages,  belonging  to 


72  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

a  time  when  the  countries  which  now  shut  Switzerland 
from  the  sea  did  not  exist,  and  her  western  boundary  was  a 
sea-shore  where  corals  built  their  reefs  and  shells  lived  on 
the  beaches.  When  you  learn  something  about  the  forma- 
tion of  mountains,  you  will  see  how  such  beaches  may  be 
raised  from  their  natural  level,  so  that  the  shells  of  animals 
which  lived  upon  them  are  found  at  last  among  the  mount- 
ains. On  arriving  in  America,  Mr.  Agassiz  began  the  study 
of  the  jelly-fishes,  star-fishes,  sea-anemones,  and  like  objects 
living  along  our  northern  shore — animals  which  he  had 
never  before  had  the  opportunity  of  watching  alive.  And, 
among  other  things,  he  became  deeply  interested  in  study- 
ing the  structure  of  the  little  corals  found  about  Martha's 
Vineyard  Sound. 

5.  He  procured  living  specimens,  kept  them  alive  in 
glass  jars,  changing  the  water  frequently,   and  watched 
them  during  a  whole  summer,  having  drawings  made  from 
them  to  show  the  different  parts  of  their  body,  their  ap- 
pearance when  open  or  closed,  and,  in  short,  all  the  details 
of  their  structure.     Thus  it  happened  that  he  was  quite 
familiar  with  these  corals  of  our  coast  when  he  was  invited 
by  Professor  Bache,  then  Superintendent  of  the  Coast  Sur- 
vey, to  make  an  examination  of  the  coral-reef  of  Florida, 
in  order  to  ascertain  certain  facts  about  it,  the  knowledge 
of  which  was  important  to  the  interests  of  navigation. 

6.  While  making  this  survey  he  had,  of  course,  the  best 
opportunity  for  studying  the  animals  themselves.     He  ar- 
ranged a  working-room,  or  laboratory,  at  Key  West,  and 
provided  himself  with  a  number  of  glass  jars  and  large  glass 
tubs,  some  of  them  so  wide  and  deep  that  he  could  keep  in 
them  masses  of  living  corals  measuring  two  feet  in  diame- 
ter, completely  immersed  in  water.     This  is  a  necessary 
condition.     If  you  take  a  coral  out  of  the  water,  he  dies. 
There  are  some  kinds  so  sensitive  that,  merely  in  order  to 
take  them  from  the  sea  and  drop  them  into  your  jar,  you 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA. 


73 


must  place  your  jar  under  the  water.  The  instant  of  tran- 
sit while  you  lift  the  coral  from  his  natural  home  would 
otherwise  be  sufficient  to  kill  him. 

7.  Having  arranged  his  working  materials,  Mr.  Agassiz 
passed  weeks  in  studying  these  minute  creatures.     He  had 
microscopes,  one  or  two  assistants,  and  an  artist,  so  that  the 
work  went  on  with  a  certain  rapidity.    But  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances  the  progress  is  slow,  because  you 
must  wait  the  moods 

of  these  capricious  lit- 
tle creatures,  who  will 
hide  themselves  for 
hours,  drawing  in  all 
their  soft  parts,  and  clos- 
ing themselves  against 
investigation.  One  day 
he  sat  watching  a  mass 
of  living  porites,  which 
form  the  foundation  of 
the  reef.  A  specimen 
of  this  is  shown  in  the 
figure.  Every  spot  on 
the  surface  marks  a  sep- 
arate individual,  while 
the  lines  disposed  about 
it  like  a  star  indicate  the  feelers.  The  animals  are  exceed- 
ingly small,  scarcely  larger  than  the  head  of  a  pin. 

8.  On  this  occasion  Mr.  Agassiz  had  been  looking  for 
a  long  time  with  a  magnifying-glass  at  the  minute  creat- 
ures forming  this  singular  community,  when  suddenly  he 
saw  a  little,  round,  yellowish  object — so  small  that  it  would 
scarcely  have   been   noticed  without  the   magnifier — pro- 
trude  from  the  mouth  of  one  of  them.      It  was   a  new 
feature  ;   he  had  never  observed  anything  of  the  kind  be- 
fore,  and  he  watched   it  with  intense   curiosity.     It  ad- 


Coral  Porite. 


74  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

vanced  more  and  more,  creeping  slowly  out,  and  pres- 
ently parted  from  the  coral  stock  and  floated  free  in  the 
water,  an  independent  being,  oval  in  shape,  a  mere  bubble 
for  transparency  and  lightness,  but  evidently  a  living  thing, 
since  it  moved  about  quite  rapidly.  He  had  seen  the  birth 
of  a  coral  animal.  While  he  followed  its  motions  with 
wonder  and  interest,  he  perceived  that  the  same  process  was 
going  on  over  the  whole  mass.  It  was  a  birthday  in  this 
great  family,  for  now  from  the  countless  mouths,  crowding 
the  surface  of  the  coral-head,  the  same  little  objects  began 
to  appear,  and  were  cast  off  like  the  first,  till  hundreds  of 
new  beings  floated  in  the  water  around  the  parent  community. 

9.  Mr.  Agassiz  had  chanced  upon  the  moment  of  breed- 
ing in  a  coral  stock.     He  had  never  seen  it,  nor  had  any 
naturalist  ever  seen  it  before  ;  he  has  never  seen  it  since ; 
he  might  watch  for  months,  perhaps,  and  never  see  it  again. 
This  is  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that  these  investigations 
are  so  baffling  and  slow.     The  patient  waiting  of  years  may 
give  you  only  one  such  hour.     Still,  the  time  is  not  lost, 
for  it  is  by  intimate  familiarity  with  the  structure  of  ani- 
mals, by  constant  comparison  of  one  with  another — by  un- 
wearied study,  in   short — that  the  observer  acquires   the 
knowledge  which  enables  him  to  understand  some  entirely 
new  fact  when  it  suddenly  presents  itself. 

10.  Mr.  Agassiz  was  unable  to  follow  the  history  of  his 
new  brood  beyond  its  first  stages,  because  it  was  impossible 
to  maintain  the  conditions  necessary  to  rear  them,  and  they 
soon  died.     But  having  ascertained  that  the  young  corals 
begin  their  existence  as  free,  independent  beings,  and  re- 
semble the  young  of  the  soft-bodied  radiates,  so  much  is 
known  of  the  latter,  and  of  later  stages  in  the  life  of  the 
corals,  that  it  was  easy  to  put  these  facts  together  and  make 
out  the  whole  story. 

11.  Suppose  such  a  being  to  be  born  into  the  sea — and 
no  doubt  they  are  cast  in  swarms  from  the  coral  stocks  into 


LOW  LIFE  IN   TSE  SEA.  Y5 

the  water  surrounding  a  reef.  Independent  and  able  to 
move  about  freely  at  first,  it  presently  selects  a  suitable 
spot,  and  attaches  itself  to  the  rocks  or  to  the  sea-bottom 
by  one  end.  This  end  flattens  and  adheres  to  the  ground 
just  as  in  the  sea-anemone,  fitting  itself  gradually  to  the 
surface  on  which  it  rests,  while  the  upper  end  spreads  and 
becomes  a  little  depressed  at  the  center.  That  depression 
marks  where  the  mouth  is  presently  to  be,  and  it  deepens 
until  it  becomes  a  hole,  and  feelers  or  tentacles  gradually 
develop  around  it. 

12.  And  now  begins  that  phase  in  the  life  of  a  coral 
animal   by   which  it  differs   from    all   the  other  radiates, 
and  is  enabled,  notwithstanding  its  diminutive  size,  to  play 
so  important  a  part  in  the  history  of  the  world.     There  are 
hard  particles  of  lime  in  its  substance,  and  these  accumu- 
late, first,  at  the  base  of  the  body  where  it  is  attached  to 
the  ground,  so  that  it  becomes  firm  and  immovable,  after- 
ward on  the  outside  wall,  and  between  the  partitions.    Now 
the  whole  has  a  solid  frame,  the  only  parts  of  the  little  coral 
which  remain  soft  being  the  stomach  within  the  body,  the 
mouth,  and  feelers.     These  latter  retain  their  flexible  con- 
tractile character  through  life,  and  decompose  when  the 
animal  dies. 

13.  There  is  one  fact  in  the  nature  of  the  coral  animals 
which  affects  their  choice  of  a  resting-place,  and  has  a  di- 
rect bearing  on  the  strength  and  solidity  of  the  structures 
they  build.     The  more  compact  kinds,  those  which  grow 
closely  together  and  form  the  rounded,  rocky  masses  known 
as  coral-heads,  like  the  deep  sea.     They  settle  at  a  depth  of 
ten  or  twelve  fathoms,  while  the  lighter  branching  kinds 
prefer  shallower  waters.     Thus  it  happens  that  the  founda- 
tion of  a  reef  is  always  laid  by  those  coral  animals  which, 
from  their  very  nature  and  mode  of  growth,   secure  the 
soundest  basis  for  the  structure  ;  while  the  upper  part  is 
built  by  the  lighter  branching  kinds. 


76  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

14.  We  have  seen  the  birth  of  an  independent  coral. 
But  these  animals  have  two  ways  of  multiplying  :  one  by 
which  new  communities  are  founded,  another  by  which  they 
spread  and  increase.     A  little  germ,  like  the  one  described 
above,  having  undergone  the  changes  I  have  mentioned,  and 
assumed  his  permanent  character,  begins  to  put  out  little 
buds  from  either  side,  which  grow  into  new  beings  exactly 
like  himself,  and  multiply  in  their  turn,  till  the  community 
which  he  has  founded  is  numbered  by  hundreds,  thousands, 
nay,  millions  of  distinct  beings.     All  the  members  of  this 
innumerable  family  are  organically  connected  ;  that  is,  the 
cavities  of  their  bodies  open  into  each  other,  so  that  they 
lead  a  common  life,  the  food  absorbed  by  each  one  circu- 
lating through  the  whole  mass,  and  nourishing  all  the  rest. 

15.  There  is  a  great  diiference  in  the  mode  of  budding 
among  the  different  kinds  of  coral.     Some  spread  horizon- 
tally, budding  from  the  base  and  pushing  outward.     In 
others,  each  animal  gradually  widens  toward  the  summit  as 
it  grows,  assuming  a  sort  of  trumpet-shape,  and  then  divides, 
so  that  where  there  was  but  one  mouth  there  are  now  two. 
All  the  curious  and  fantastic  kinds  of  coral  which  we  find 
in  cabinets  are  the  results  of  these  different  methods  of  bud- 
ding.    The  study  of  the  dead  specimens,  however,  can  con- 
vey a  very  inadequate  idea  of  the  beauty  and  wonder  of  the 
submarine  wall,  and  of  the  living  shrubbery  which  crowns 
its  summit,  as  seen  upon  the  reefs  of  Florida. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  C.  Agassiz. 


THE    CORAL  GROVE. 

1.  DEEP  in  the  wave  is  a  coral  grove, 

Where  the  purple  mullet  and  gold-fish  rove, 
Where  the  sea-flower  spreads  its  leaves  of  blue, 
That  never  are  wet  with  the  falling  dew, 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  Y? 

But  in  bright  and  changeful  beauty  shine 
Far  down  in  the  green  and  glassy  brine. 

2.  The  floor  is  of  sand,  like  the  mountain's  drift, 

And  the  pearl-shells  spangle  the  flinty  snow  ; 
From  coral  rocks  the  sea-plants  lift 

Their  boughs  where  the  tides  and  billows  flow  ; 
The  water  is  calm  and  still  below, 

For  the  winds  and  waves  are  absent  there, 
And  the  sands  are  bright  as  the  stars  that  glow 

In  the  motionless  fields  of  upper  air. 

3.  There,  with  its  waving  blade  of  green, 

The  sea-flag  streams  through  the  silent  water, 
And  the  crimson  leaf  of  the  dulse  is  seen 

To  blush  like  a  banner  bathed  in  slaughter. 
There,  with  a  light  and  easy  motion, 

The  fan-coral  sweeps  through  the  clear,  deep  sea  ; 
And  the  yellow  and  scarlet  tufts  of  ocean 

Are  bending,  like  corn  on  the  upland  lea. 

4.  And  life  in  rare  and  beautiful  forms 

Is  sporting  amid  those  bowers  of  stone, 
And  is  safe,  when  the  wrathful  spirit  of  storms 

Has  made  the  top  of  the  wave  his  own . 
And  when  the  ship  from  his  fury  flies, 

Where  the  myriad  voices  of  ocean  roar, 
When  the  wind-god  frowns  in  the  murky  skies, 

And  demons  are  waiting  the  wreck  on  the  shore — 
Then,  far  below  in  the  peaceful  sea, 

The  purple  mullet  and  gold-fish  rove, 
There  the  waters  murmur  tranquilly 

Through  the  bending  twigs  of  the  coral  grove. 

Percival. 


78  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


CRABS  AND   THEIR   WAYS. 

1.  WITH  one's  eyes  kept  open,  how  very  much  there  is 
to  excite  interest  in  a  summer  stroll  beside  the  sea  !     Ma- 
rine life — the  creatures  that  represent  the  life-zone  that 
belts  or  fringes  the  great  murmuring  world  of  waters — is  so 
peculiar,  some  exquisitely  beautiful,  as  the  sea-anemones, 
others  droll  and  grotesque,  as  the  great  class  known  as  the 
Crustacea.     The  tide  is  out.     See  that  bird  with  bill  curv- 
ing upward.     A  beautiful  functional  adaptation  it  is — for 
with  it  small  stones  are  turned  over  so  deftly,  and  thus  its 
food,  the  sheltered  worms,  are  exposed.     It  is  the  avocet 

2.  So  we  turn  avocet,  using  a  stick  in  the  operation. 
Ah  !  we  have  disturbed  a  poor  polydactyled  refugee  in  his 
retreat.     See  how  threateningly  he  snaps  at  us  his  two 
pairs  of  pincers  like  formidable  blacksmith-tongs.     What  a 
crusty-looking  fellow  he  is  !     Now  he  is  off,  running  side- 
wise  ;  for  they  can  go  "forward,  backward,  and  oblique." 
There  is  speed  enough,  but  the  gait  is  so  comical.     But 
crabs  are  given  to  flank  movements.     We  determine  to  try 
one  on  him  ;  so  with  the  stick  just  touching  him  laterally, 
and  a  fillip,  and  he  is  on  his  back . 

3.  At  this  point,  Frank,  who  is  always  facetious,  and 
who  had  just  been  saying  that  he  had  come  from  the  bowl- 
ing green  (he  meant  alley),  says  we  have  knocked  the  poor 
fellow  off  his  pins,  and  that  it  was  a  ten-strike,  adding  for 
our  enlightenment,  "  Don't  you  see  that  crab  stands  on  ten 
pins  ? "     Now,  it  so  happens  in  this  connection  that  it  is 
just  on   this  "ten-pin"  arrangement  that  the  naturalist 
founds  his  division  Decapoda  as  one  of  the  three  orders  of 
the  great  class  Crustacea.     The  decapods,  or  ten-footed, 
include  the  crabs  and  lobsters,  and  rank  the  highest  in 
their  class. 

4.  All  crustaceans  exuviate,  or  cast  their  hard,  shelly 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA, 


79 


covering  at  least  once  a  year.  It  has  been  said  quite  graph- 
ically that  "the  new  integument  is  so  soft  and  yielding, 
and  the  muscles  in  such  a  flaccid  condition,  that  the  limbs 
are  drawn  through  the  small  openings  at  the  joints,  much 
as  a  sack  nearly  filled  with  some  fluid  may  be  drawn 
through  an  opening  much  smaller  than  the  sack  itself." 
It  should  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  the  neck  in 
the  great  claws,  or  nippers,  is  crossed  by  thin,  knife-like 
blades,  or  plates  of  shell ;  and  it  is  certain  that  in  draw- 
ing out  the  thumbs 
they  are  cut  into  long 
shreds,  which  doubt- 
less, when  drawn  out, 
come  together  imme- 
diately and  heal. 

5.  As    giving    a 
peep  at   the   private 
life  of  the  European 
crabs,  let  us  skim  off 
the  cream  of  a  para- 
graph   from    Gosse. 

The  naturalist  has  been  exploring  the  rocks  on  the  English 
coast,  and  says  :  "  Peering  into  a  hole,  I  saw  a  fine  large 
crab.  I  pulled  him  out,  and  carried  him  home.  There 
came  out  with  him  the  claw  of  a  crab  of  similar  size,  but 
quite  soft,  which  I  supposed  might  have  been  carried  in 
there  by  my  gentleman  to  eat.  After  I  had  got  him  out — 
it  was  a  male — I  looked  in,  and  saw  another  at  the  bottom 
of  the  hole. 

6.  "Arrived  at  home,   I  found   that  I  had  left  my 
pocket-knife  at  the  mouth  of  the  crab-hole.     I  returned ; 
the  crab  had  not  moved.     I  drew  it  out.     But  lo  !  it  was  a 
soft  crab,  the  shell  being  of  the  consistence  of  wet  parch- 
ment.   It  was  a  female,  too,  and  had  lost  one  claw.    What, 
then,  are  we  to  infer  from  this  association  ?    Do  the  com- 


Edible  Crab. 


80  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

mon  crabs  live  in  pairs  ?  And  does  one  keep  guard  at  the 
mouth  of  the  cavern,  while  its  consort  is  undergoing  its 
change  of  skin  ?  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  claw  of  its  mate 
was  unintentionally  torn  off  in  its  efforts  to  effect  some 
hold,  when  resisting  my  tugs  in  dragging  him  out." 

7.  But  it  is  in  America,  after  all,  that  the  habits  of 
crabs  at  their  time  of  exuviation  should  be  the  best  known. 
The  soft-shell  crab  is  condemned  as  food  in  Europe,  it 
being  considered  as  in  a  sickly  state  at  that  time,  just  as 
birds  are  when  moulting.    And  may  not  this  be  so  ?    How- 
ever, in  this  country  the  procuring  of  the  soft-shell  crab  is 
a  great  and  profitable  industry.     Hence,  any  intelligent 
"crabber"  knows  a  good  deal  of  their  habits.     For  many 
years  we  knew  an  old  fisherman.     He  was  quite  illiterate, 
but  of  more  than  the  average  intelligence  of  his  class.     He 
was  an  old  "crabber,"  too.    As  he  long  supplied  my  family 
with  fish,  I  often  got  him  into  conversation. 

8.  "I  hev  ketched  soft  crabs  for  market  many  a  year. 
The  crab  sheds  every  year,  chiefly  in  early  summer.     At 
that  time  the  he  one  is  mighty  kind  to  his  mate.     When 
she  shows  signs  of  shedding,  the  he  one  comes  along,  and 
gets  on  the  she  one's  back,  quite  tenderly  like,  and  entirely 
protects  her  from  all  enemies,  whether  of  fishes  or  of  their 
own  kind.     She  is  now  getting  ready  to  shed,  and  is  called 
a  shedder.     Soon  the  back  begins  to  burst  nigh  to  the  tail. 
She  is  then  called  a  buster.*    The  he  one  is  then  very  anx- 
ious to  find  a  good  place  for  her,  either  by  digging  a  hole 
in  the  sand  or  mud,  or  else  looking  up  a  good  cover  under 
some  sea-weed.     Here  he  brings  her,  all  the  time  hovering 
nigh,  and  doing  battle  for  her,  if  anything  comes  along. 
She   now — and  it  only  takes   a   few  minutes — withdraws 
from  the  old  shell.     And  she  comes  out  perfect  in  every 
part,  even  to  the  inside  of  the  hairs,  the  eyes,  and  long 
feelers,  almost  like  the  whiskers  of  a  cat.     At  the  first  tide 
she  is  fat,  and  the  shell  is  soft,  just  like  a  thin  skin.     She 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  81 

is  then  called  a  soft-shell,  and  it's  the  first- tiders  that  bring 
the  high  price.  At  the  second  tide  she  is  perfectly  watery 
and  transparent,  and  is  then  called  a  buckler ;  but  she  is 
not  worth  much  then.  At  the  third  tide  she  is  again  a 
hard-shell,  as  she  always  was,  only  bigger." 

9.  As  mentioned,  our  edible  crab  literally  backs  out  of 
the  shell ;  that  is,  it  comes  out  at  an  opening  behind. 
The  Limulus,  or  horseshoe-crab,  acts  directly  contrariwise. 
The  shell  cracks  open  at  the  front,  and  the  animal  emerges 
forward,  instead  of  from  behind,  or  backward.  In  fact, 
the  structure  of  the  shell  makes  this  the  only  possible 
mode.  A  few  years  ago  the  officers  superintending  the 
building  of  the  fort  at  Sandy  Hook  became  greatly  in- 
terested at  witnessing  this  exuviation  of  the  shell  of  Li- 
mulus Polyphemus,  and  they  declared  that  the  fellow 
was  spewing  himself  out  of  his  mouth  ! 

Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood. 


FIDDLERS    UPON    THE    SHORE. 

1.  THE  fiddler-crab  is  truly  a  queer  customer.  Some 
call  him  the  soldier-crab ;  and  certainly,  if  agility  and 
seeming  courage  make  up  the  martial  element,  then  a  val- 
orous little  fellow  he  is.  The  males  have  one  hand  enor- 
mously large.  This,  when  closed  upon  the  front  of  the 
body,  is  suggestive  of  the  attitude  of  a  violinist — hence  we 
boys  used  to  call  it  the  fiddler-crab.  The  naturalist  names 
it  Gelasimus  vocans,  a  name  highly  expressive  of  its  attri- 
butes. Some  have  rendered  the  words  "calling-crab." 
This  is  too  far  short  of  their  significance.  The  words  are 
intended  to  indicate  both  the  action  of  the  crab  and  its 
effect  upon  the  beholder.  When  alarmed,  they  go  scuttling 
over  the  mud  to  their  burrows,  the  males  each  holding  his 


82 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


great  claw  aloft,  and  waving  it  in  a  manner  that  looks 
ludicrously  like  beckoning,  or  challenging,  and  at  the  same 
time  threatening,  and  this,  too,  while  in  full  and  masterly 
retreat. 

2.  Each  seems,  as  it  might  be,  a  Liliputian  Falstaff ; 
and,  if  rendered  in  Homeric  strain,  Gelasimus  vocans 
would  signify  the  "  laughter-provoking  challenger."  In- 
deed, Gelasimus  never  sees  anybody,  whether  great  or  small, 
but  forth  he  hurls  his  challenge  in  pantomime,  for  up  goes 
that  threatening  huge  member,  so  that  its  owner  appears 
to  be  habitually  bent  on  something  high-handed.  As 
this  swaying  of  the  great  fiddle-like  claw  seems  to  start  and 

direct  or  animate 
the  retreat,  it  is  lu- 
dicrously suggestive 
of  a  musical  conduc- 
tor beating  time  by 
swaying  a  bass-viol 
instead  of  his  Mton, 
the  effect  of  his  ec- 
centricity being  to 
cause  a  stampede  of 
all  the  fiddlers. 

3.  This  crab  ex- 
cavates holes  in  the  earth,  a  male  and  a  female  occupying 
one  hole.  Into  this  retreat  it  retires  with  astonishing  ce- 
lerity when  alarmed,  and,  having  gained  its  hole,  it  liter- 
ally barricades  the  entrance,  by  turning  round  and  closing 
it  up  with  its  big  hand,  leaving  just  room  enough  for  the 
little  keen  eyes  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  at  whatever  may 
be  passing.  In  these  burrows  they  spend  the  winter,  prob- 
ably in  hibernation.  More  than  once,  when  pursuing  the 
fiddler,  who,  with  fiddle  aloft,  ran  swiftly,  has  the  writer 
had  the  luxury  of  a  slip  and  fall  on  the  slimy  clay  of  Fid- 
dler Town,  as  we  called  a  certain  place  in  the  salt-meadows, 


Fiddler-  Crab. 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  83 

where  these  fiddlers  lived.     Those  mishaps  were  really  en- 
joyable— that  is,  to  those  who  looked  on. 

Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood. 


SEA-HERMITS   AND   THEIR    HOMES. 

1.  THERE  is  a  group  of  crabs  which  has  a  curious  habit, 
made  necessary  on  account  of  the  unprotected  condition 
of  the  hinder  part  of  their  bodies.     This  is  entirely  naked  ; 
hence  these  crabs  occupy  the  empty  shells  of  sea-snails, 
winkles,  and  such  univalves.     It  is  called  the  hermit-crab, 
or  Pagurus.     The  most  common  species  on  the  Atlantic 
coast  is  the  little  hermit.     A  pair  of  nippers  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  tail,  or  naked  abdomen,,  enables  it  to  grip 
the  columella,  or  upper  part  of  the  inside  of  the  shell  that 
it  occupies,  thus  keeping  itself  snugly  in  place.     As  the 
crab  increases  in  size  by  growth,  it  has  to  change  its  home 
for  one  more  roomy ;  and  this  leads  to  some  remarkable 
exhibitions  of  its  instincts.     The  sight,  which  we  have 
often  beheld,  is  one  of  exciting  interest.     Watch,  now,  if 
you  please. 

2.  Here  is  a  fat  little  hermit-crab,  whose  domicile,  like 
a  strait-jacket,  has  become  decidedly  uncomfortable,  and 
he  is  somewhat  distracted  about  it.     He  is  out  a  house- 
hunting— that  is  a  literal  fact.    See,  he  has  found  an  empty 
shell.     It  is  not  so  handsome  as  the  one  he  now  occupies, 
but  it  is  a  little  larger.     Look,  how  he  almost  lifts  it  up 
among  his  ten  feet,  every  one  of  which  is  an  interested 
inspector,  as  each  must   bear   its  part  in   sustaining  the 
establishment.      Now   he    rolls   it   round   and   round,   all 
over  and  over,  delicately  manipulating  its  sculpture  occa- 
sionally ;  he  is  not  only  testing  its  specific  gravity  like  a 
philosopher,  but  also  seems  to  have  an  eye  to  appearances. 


84  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

Now  comes  the  most  essential,  the  inspection  of  the  inte- 
rior. Will  it  fit  ?  That  is  the  chief  consideration.  He 
inserts  his  longest  finger,  and  thoroughly  probes  the  whole 
matter.  One  more  trial — and  now  it  seems  that  the  an- 
tennae, or  feelers,  enter  into  the  consultation.  And  what 
an  amount  of  feeling  deliberation  does  this  step  involve  ! 
Well,  the  thing  appears  to  be  satisfactory.  It  is  evidently 
decided  that  the  new  house  will  answer. 


Hermit-  Grab. 

3.  And  now  comes  the  most  trying  time  of  all — for 
"moving"  is  a  trying  time.  But  Pagurus  is  actuated  by 
considerations  that  fall  not  to  the  lot  of  migratory  mor- 
tals of  the  bipedal  sort.  His  accountability  is  of  the  ten- 
talent  order.  With  his  eyes  he  surveys  the  entire  situation. 
What !  Yes,  it  is  so !  He  has  moved,  and  settled,  and 
has  got  the  house  "all  to  rights."  The  whole  thing  was 
done  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  It  vacates  the  old  house, 
whisks  its  tail  round,  and  enters  the  new  one  backward,  as 
if  shot  into  it  from  a  gun.  In  fact,  unless  watching  in- 
tently, the  whole  movement  will  elude  the  eye,  like  a  trick 


LOW  LIFE  IN  THE  SEA.  85 

of  legerdemain.  And  the  cause  is  not  far  to  seek.  If  that 
soft,  nude,  defenseless  body  were  exposed  but  for  an  in- 
stant, it  might  become  the  prey  of  some  darting  fish. 

4.  These  hermit-crabs  are  highly  pugnacious.  We  once 
took  a  pair  of  them  that  we  suspected  of  being  anxious  to 
change  their  houses.  They  were  put  in  a  vessel  of  sea- 
water,  and,  full  in  sight  of  them,  was  placed  an  empty 
winkle-shell,  which  we  supposed  was  of  the  right  size. 
How  they  did  fight  for  it !  It  was  a  battle  for  life.  One 
succumbed  at  last,  and  died.  The  survivor  coolly  sur- 
veyed his  victim,  and  then  surveyed  the  new  premises. 
After  this,  he  promptly  entered  into  possession  ;  and  then, 
pitiful  to  relate,  he  fell  to  eating  his  defunct  comrade.  Oh, 
the  cannibal  !  The  cut  given  of  a  hermit-crab  shows  ac- 
tinea,  or  zoophite,  upon  the  shell.  These  are  sometimes 
called  sea-anemones,  and  animal  flowers,  on  account  of 
their  being  real  animals,  with  a  flower-like  form. 

Rev.  Samuel  Lockwood. 


PART  IV. 
HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS. 


THE    DEVIL-FISH    AND    HIS    KIN. 

1.  THE  cuttle-fish  has  been  an  object  of  curiosity  al- 
most from  time  immemorial,  both  on  account  of  its  strange 
form  and  its  habits.     It  seems  to  be  a  connecting  link  be- 
tween the  fishes  and  the  lower  forms  of  life  in  the  waters. 
Like  the  sea-anemone,  it  consists  of  a  sack-like  body  with 
tentacles,  only  with  the  cuttle-fish  the  body  has  attained  a 
much  greater  consistency,  and  is  provided  with  a  bony  sub- 
stance known  as  cuttle-fish  shell,  and  the  tentacles  are  de- 
veloped into  ten  long  leathery  arms,  provided  with  suckers 
which  can  attach  themselves  to  any  hard  substance.     Just 
where  the  arms  are  attached  to  the  body  are  two  large, 
staring  eyes,  which  give  to  the  fish  a  very  sinister  appear- 
ance. 

2.  The  cuttle-fish  seeks  its  prey  in  the  open  sea,  and  is 
very  voracious.    Fishermen  dread  its  presence  in  their  nets, 
as  it  bites  and  mutilates  other  fish  savagely.    It  is  provided 
with  a  receptacle  containing  a  dark-colored  fluid,  which  it 
discharges  when  attacked,  coloring  the  water,  and  so  render- 
ing itself  invisible  to  its  enemy.     This  fluid  is  sepia,  from 
which  sepia  or  India  ink  is  made.     The  cuttle-fish  some- 
times attains  the  size  of  three  feet  in  length. 

3.  A  much  more  formidable  member  of  this  family  of 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS. 


87 


fishes  is  the  octopus,  or  devil-fish  proper.  This  animal 
consists  of  a  mouth  and  stomach  combined,  with  usually 
eight,  but  sometimes  ten  long  arms.  The  eyes  are  like 
those  of  the  cuttle-fish.  It  can  readily  be  seen  how  this 
creature  seizes  its  prey.  The  arms  are  tough  and  leathery, 
and  can  not  be  easily  cut  with  a  knife.  They  are  furnished 
their  whole  length  with  two  rows  of  perfect  sucking  disks, 
or  some  two  thousand  air-pumps.  The  edges  are  sharp 
and  saw-like,  burying  themselves  in  the  flesh  of  their  vic- 
tims. With  some  of  their  arms  attached  to  a  rock,  they 
throw  out  the  oth- 
ers as  lassos,  and 
while  in  this  posi- 
tion scarcely  any- 
thing can  resist  their 
force. 

4.  The  long  ap- 
pendages   are    used 
both    as    arms    antl 
legs.     All  the  octo- 
pods  swim  freely  at 
will,    and    associate 
in  numbers,  but  the 
larger  ones,  as  they 
become     older,     fly 

from  community  life  and  retire  into  the  clefts  and  hol- 
lows of  the  rocks  which  have  been  worn  by  the  waves,  gen- 
erally in  places  only  a  few  feet  below  the  level  of  low  water. 
There,  with  one  arm  clasped  close  to  the  wall  of  its  dwell- 
ing, the  watchful  savage  extends  the  others,  alert,  like  the 
boa-constrictor,  for  the  approach  of  prey,  and  no  less  dead- 
ly in  the  crushing  force  of  its  folds.  Its  movements  in 
seizing  its  victims  are  swift  as  an  arrow. 

5.  When  the  animal   is  swimming,  its  long  tentacles 
would  be  in  the  way  if  extended  or  left  pendent,  so  they 


The  Octopus. 


88 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


are  drawn  close  alongside  and  allowed  to  float  behind, 
where  they  act  as  the  tail  to  a  kite.  Motion  in  the  water 
is  gained  by  drawing  in  and  expelling  water  from  the  loco- 
motory  tube.  The  octopus  thus  swims  backward  instead 
of  forward.  Its  food  consists  of  crustaceans,  fishes,  and 
other  mollusks ;  every  kind  of  animal,  in  fact,  which 
comes  within  its  reach.  But  it  disdains  carrion  flesh, 
and  feeds  only  on  living  victims.  The  general  life  of  the 
octopus,  as  of  the  other  cuttle-fish,  is  about  five  or  six 
years ;  and  it  lays  eggs,  which  are  large,  and  generally 
found  in  clusters.  Fishermen  call  them  sea-grapes. 

6.  The  locomotion  of  the  devil-fish  is  as  easy  on  land  as 
in  the  water.     They  have  been  known  frequently  to  run 

up  perpendicular 
cliffs,  two  hundred 
feet  high,  as  easily 
as  the  fly  runs  up  a 
wall,  the  machinery 
"of  attachment  be- 
ing very  similar. 
They  are  said  to 
move  as  fast  on 
land  as  a  man  can 
run,  and  they  fre- 
quently pursue  their  prey  out  of  the  sea,  though  on  the 
land  they  are  far  more  timid  than  in  the  water.  The  vul- 
nerable portion  of  the  octopus  is  the  neck,  and  fishermen 
and  others,  who  know  their  habits  when  attacked,  always 
strive,  if  possible,  to  seize  them  by  the  throttle-valve,  when 
they  are  easily  killed.  This  is  comparatively  easy  on  land, 
but  nearly  impossible  in  the  water. 

7.  The   octopus  grows   to   an  immense   size,  when   it 
merits  its  name  of  devil-fish.     Some  years  since  one  was 
cast  ashore  at  Newfoundland  with  arms  fifty  feet  in  length. 
But  the  largest  one  of  which  we  have  an  authentic  account 


Octopus  Running. 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS.  89 

was  the  one  encountered  near  the  Madeira  Islands  by  the 
French  steamer  Alecton.  This  monster  was  estimated  to 
be  fifty  feet  long  without  reckoning  its  eight  formidable 
arms,  covered  with  suckers,  and  about  twenty  feet  in  cir- 
cumference at  its  largest  part,  the  head  terminating  in 
many  arms  of  enormous  size,  the  other  extremity  in  two 
fleshy  lobes  or  fins  of  great  size,  the  weight  of  the  whole 
being  estimated  at  four  thousand  pounds  ;  the  flesh  was 
soft,  glutinous,  and  of  reddish-brick  color. 

8.  The  commandant,  wishing  in  the  interests  of  science 
to  secure  the  monster,  actually  engaged  it  in  battle.     Nu- 
merous shots  were  aimed  at  it,  but  the  balls  traversed  its 
flaccid  and  glutinous  mass  without  causing  it  any  vital  in- 
jury.    But  after  one  of  these  attacks  the  waves  were  ob- 
served to  be  covered  with  foam  and  blood,  and,  singular 
thing,  a  strong  odor  of  musk  was  inhaled  by  the  spectators. 
This  musk  odor  is  peculiar  to  many  of  the  cephalopods. 

9.  The  musket-shots  not  having  produced  the  desired 
results,  harpoons  were  employed,  but  they  took  no  hold  on 
the  soft,  impalpable  flesh  of  the  marine  monster.     When  it 
escaped  from  the  harpoon,  it  dived  under  the  ship,  and 
came  up  again  at  the  other  side.     They  succeeded  at  last 
in  getting  the  harpoon  to  hold,  and  in  passing  a  bowling 
hitch  round  the  posterior  part  of  the  animal.     But  when 
they  attempted  to  hoist  it  out  of  the  water  the  rope  pene- 
trated deeply  into  the  flesh,  and  separated  it  into  two  parts, 
the  head  with  the  arms  and  tentacles  dropping  into  the  sea 
and  making  off,  while  the  fins  and  posterior  parts  were 
brought  on  board  ;  they  weighed  about  forty  pounds. 

10.  Rev.  Mr.  Harvey,  of  Newfoundland,  published  an 
account  a  few  years  ago  of  the  adventure  of  two  fishermen 
in  Conception  Bay.     Their  boat  passed  near  what  appeared 
to  be  a  floating  bale  of  goods,  which  was  presumed  to  be 
flotsam  from  some  wreck.     One  of  them  struck  the  mass 
with  the  boat-hook,  when  it  instantly  opened,  like  a  gigan- 


90  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

tic  umbrella  without  a  handle,  and  a  huge  head,  with  fiery, 
threatening  eyes  that  protruded  ominously,  and  a  long, 
curved  beak,  raised  itself  from  the  surface.  While  they 
stood  paralyzed  with  fear,  the  monster  flung  at  them  a 
tentacle  of  livid,  corpse-like  hue,  thirty  feet  long,  which 
went  far  beyond  the  boat,  or  they  would  have  been  en- 
gulfed. 

11.  One  of  the  fishermen  seized  a  sharp  hatchet,  and, 
by  a  well-directed  blow,  severed  this  terrible  lasso  before 
another  could  be  used,  on  which  the  savage  apparition  of 
the   sea  swiftly  darted  backward,  and  was   lost  to  sight 
amid  the  ink-like  discharge  with  which  it  blackened  the 
waters.     The  tentacle  was  given  to  Mr.  Harvey,  and  the 
fishermen  avowed  that  there  must  have  been  at  least  ten 
feet  more  of  it  next  the  body  of  their  assailant.     The  col- 
ored discharge  would  indicate  that  this  monster  was  a  kind 
of  cuttle-fish  rather  than  an  octopus. 

12.  These  terrible  animals  draw  their  prey  to  their  for- 
midable mouths  and  swallow  it  whole,  where  it  is  slowly 
digested  as  in  the  case  of  the  boa.     The  soft  elastic  mate- 
rial of  their  body  admits  of  an  almost  indefinite  amount  of 
extension,  so  that  prey  of  almost  any  size  is  easily  disposed 
of.     Nature  here,  as  elsewhere,  however,  has  its  compen- 
sations.    All  the  cuttle-fish  are  the  favorite  food  of  the 
whale,  the  dolphin,  and    the   porpoise.      Michelet   says  : 
"These  lords  of  the  ocean  are  so  delicate  in  their  taste 
that  they  eat  only  the  heads  and  arms,  which  are  easy  of 
digestion.     The  coasts  are  frequently  covered  with  thou- 
sands of  the   mutilated   cuttle-fish.      The   porpoises  take 
most  incredible  bounds,  at  first,  to  frighten  them,  and 
afterward  to  run  them  down.     After  making  a  meal,  they 
seem  to  express  their  satisfaction  by  a  series  of  gymnas- 
tics." 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS.  91 


SHOOTING    AND    ANGLING    FISHES. 

1.  THE  Eton  boy  hastening  home  for  the  holidays  pro- 
vides himself  with  a  tin  tube  and  a  pocketful  of  peas.     We 
beg  the  present  Etonian's  pardon  ;  we  should  have  said  he 
used  to  do  so  formerly,  when  there  were  boys  at  Eton, 
and,  backed  by  some  skill  as  a  marksman,  therewith  con- 
stituted himself  an  intolerable  nuisance  to  every  village 
and  vehicle  he  passed  on  his  road  home.     The  Macoushee 
Indian  makes  a  better  use  of  his  blow-tube  ;  he  puffs  small 
arrows  and  hardened  balls  of  clay  through  it  with  unerring 
aim,  doing  great  execution  among  birds  and  other  small 
game. 

2.  Now,  the  chsetodon,  which  is  an  inhabitant  of  the 
Eastern  seas  from  Ceylon  to  Japan,  rather,  perhaps,  resem- 
bles the  Macoushee  Indian  than  the  Eton  boy,  though  his 
gun,  shooting-tube,  or  blow-pipe,  or  whatever  it  may  be 
termed,  is  a  natural   one.     His   nose  is  really  a  kind  of 
"beak,"  through  which  he  has  the  power  of  propelling  a 
small  drop  of  water  with  some  force  and  considerable  ac- 
curacy of  aim.     Near  the  edge  of  the  water  is  perhaps  a 
spray  of  weed,  a  twig,  or  a  tuft  of  grass  ;  on  it  sits  a  fly, 
making  its  toilet  in  the  watery  mirror  below.     Eostratus 
advances  cautiously  under  the  fly ;  then  he  stealthily  pro- 
jects his  tube  from  the  water,  takes  a  deadly  aim,  and  pop 
goes  the  watery  bullet. 

" Poor  insect,  what  a  little  day  of  sunny  bliss  is  thine  I" 
Knocked  over  by  the  treacherous  missile,  drenched,  stunned, 
half  drowned,  she  drops  from  her  perch  into  the  waters  be- 
low, to  be  sucked  in  by  the  chaetodon. 

3.  But  if  we  have  fishes  who  can  shoot  their  game,  we 
have  also  fishes  who  can  fish  for  it ;  ay,  and  fish  for  it  with 
rod  and  line,  and  bait,  as  deftly  as  ever  angler  coaxed 
gudgeons  from  the  ooze  of  the  New  River  or  salmon  from 


92 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


the  flashing  torrent  of  the  Spey.     Witness  this  clumsy- 
looking  monster  the  fishing-frog,  or  angler-fish. 


The  Angrier-Fish. 

4.  Frightful  and  hideous  is  he,  according  to  our  vulgar 
notions  of   loveliness,  which   the   lophius   possibly   might 
disagree  with.     The  beast  is  sometimes  five  or  six  feet  in 
length,  with  an  enormous  head  in  proportion  to  the  rest 
of  its  body,  and  with  huge  sacks  like  bag-nets  attached  to  its 
gill-covers,  in  which  it  stows  its  victims ;  and  what  a  cav 
ernous  mouth  ! 

5.  Surely  a  fish  so  repulsive,  and  with  a  capacity  so 
vast  and  apparently  omnivorous,  would  frighten  from  its 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS.  93 

neighborhood  all  other  fish,  and  would,  if  its  powers  of 
locomotion  were  in  accordance  with  its  size,  be  the  terror 
of  the  seas  to  fish  smaller  than  itself ;  but  Providence 
knoweth  how  to  temper  its  gifts,  and  the  lophius  is  but 
an  indifferent  swimmer,  and  is  too  clumsy  to  support  a 
predatory  existence  by  the  fleetness  of  its  motions.  How, 
then,  is  this  huge  capacity  satisfied  ?  Mark  those  two 
elongated  tentacles  which  spring  from  the  creature's  nose, 
and  how  they  taper  away  like  veritable  fishing-rods.  To 
the  end  of  them  is  attached,  by  a  line  or  a  slender  fila- 
ment, a  small  glittering  morsel  of  membrane.  This  is  the 
bait.  The  hooks  are  set  in  the  mouth  of  the  fisherman 
down  below.  But  how  is  the  animal  to  induce  the  fish  to 
venture  within  reach  of  those  formidable  hooks  ? 

6.  Now  mark  this  perfect  feat  of  angling.     How  does 
the  Thames  fisherman  attract  the  gudgeons  ?     They  are 
shy ;   he  must  not  let  them  see  him,  yet  he  must  draw 
them  to  him,  and  he  does  it  by  stirring  up  the  mud  upon 
the  bottom.     "In  that  cloud  of  mud  is  food,"  say  the 
gudgeons.     Then  the  angler  plies  his  rod  and  bait.     Just 
so  the  lophius  proceeds,  and  he  too  stirs  up  the  mud  with 
his  fins  and  tail.     This  serves  not  only  to  hide  him,  but  to 
attract  the  fish.     Then  he  plies  his  rod,  and  the  glittering 
bait  waves  to  and  fro  like  a  living  insect  glancing  through 
the  turbid  water.     The  gudgeons,  or  rather  gobies,  rush 
toward  it.     "  Beware  !  beware  !"    But  when  did  gudgeon 
attend  to  warning  yet  ?     Suddenly,  up  rises  the  cavernous 
Nemesis  from  the  cloud  below,  and  "snap  !"  the  gobies  are 
entombed  in  the  bag-net,  thence  to  be  transferred  to  the 
lophius's  stomach,  when  there  are  enough  of  them  collected 
to  form  a  satisfactory  mouthful. 

7.  The  angler-fish  is  not  left  entirely  undisturbed  to 
carry  on  his  work  of  destruction.     A  kind  of  eel  ensconces 
himself  in  the  branchial  sack  of  the  angler  and  makes  it 
his  permanent  home,  levying  a  toll  upon  all  food  which  the 


94  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

angler  catches,  and  at  the  same  time  resists  the  efforts  of 
the  angler  to  convert  him  into  food.  Henceforth  the 
angler  is  obliged  to  fish  for  two,  and,  in  case  of  scarcity, 
it  is  not  the  eel  that  will  first  suffer  from  hunger. 

Francis  Francis. 


HUNTING-FISHES. 

1.  MANY  fish  hunt  their  prey  singly,  as  the  pike  and 
trout,  and  the  way  in  which  a  large  fish  of  these  kinds  will 
course  and  run  down  a  smaller  fish  resembles  nothing  so 
much  as  a  greyhound  coursing  a  hare.     Now  the  unhappy 
little  fish  turns  from  side  to  side  in  its  efforts  to  escape, 
while  its  pursuer  bends  and  turns  to  every  motion,  follow- 
ing close  upon  its  track,  and  cutting  him  off  exactly  as  the 
greyhound  does  the  hare.     Now  he  rushes  among  a  shoal 
of  lus' fellows,  hoping  to  be  lost  sight  of  in  the  crowd  and 
confusion  ;  but  the  grim  foe  behind  is  not  to  be  baffled  or 
deceived,  and,  singling  him  out,  and  scattering  the  small 
fry,  which  fly  in  all  directions,  ruffling  the  surface  of  the 
water  like  a  sudden  squall  of  wind  in  their  fright,  follows 
up  his  victim  with  unerring  instinct.     In  an  agony  of  ter- 
ror, the  poor  little  quarry  springs  again  and  again  fran- 
tically from  the  water,  only  to  fall  at  last,  exhausted,  into 
the  gaping  jaws  of  his  ravenous  foe,  who,  griping  his  body 
crosswise,  sails  steadily  away  to  his  lair,  there  to  devour  his 
prey  at  leisure. 

2.  Some  fish  hunt  their  food,  like  dogs  and  wolves,  in 
packs.     The  bonito  hunting  the  flying-fish  is  an  example. 
But  the    fiercest,   most   savage,   and    resolute   of  all  the 
leagued  banditti  of  the  deep  is  the  pirai  of  South  Amer- 
ica.    So  savage  are  these  little  pirates  that,  when  their  size 
and  apparent  capabilities  are  taken  into  consideration,  their 
feats  of  destructiveness  are  little  short  of  the  marvelous. 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS.  95 

3.  Let  us  take  the  portrait  of  this  fish.     Doubtless  the 
reader  figures   to  himself  a  fish  of  "a  lean  and  hungry 
look,"  a  very  Oassius  of  a  fish,  with  the  Ian  tern -jaws  of  a 
pike.     But,  in  fact,  the  pirai  is  somewhat  aldermanic  and 
like  a  bream  in  figure,  with  a   fighting-looking   kind  of 
nose,  and  a  wondrously  expressive  eye.     The  jaw  is  square, 
powerful,  and  locked  into  a  very  large  head  for  the  size  of 
the  fish ;  and  that  is  a  fat,  plump  head  too,  but  radiated 
over  with  strong  bone  and  gristle.     The  teeth — ah  !  they 
would  condemn  him  anywhere,  for  here  is  a  fish  sixteen 
inches  long  with  the  teeth  almost  of  a  shark. 

4.  This  voracious  fish  is  found  plentifully  in  all  the 
rivers  in  Guiana,  and  is  dreaded  by  every  other  inhabit- 
ant or  visitant  of  the  river.     Their  jaws  are  so  strong  that 
they  are  able  to  bite  off  a  man's  finger  or  toe.     They  at- 
tack fish  of  ten  times  their  own  weight,  and  devour  all  but 
the  head.     They  begin  with  the  tail,  and  the  fish,  being 
left  without  the  chief  organ  of  motion,  is  devoured  with 
ease,  several  going  to  participate  of  the  meal.     Indeed, 
there  is  scarcely  any  animal  which  it  will  not  attack,  man 
not  excepted.     Large  alligators  which  have  been  wounded 
on  the  tail  afford  a  fair  chance  of  satisfying  their  hunger, 
and  even  the  toes  of  this  formidable  animal  are  not  free 
from  their  attacks.     The  feet  of  ducks  and  geese,  where 
they  are  kept,  are  almost  invariably  cut  off,  and  young 
ones  devoured  altogether.     In  these  places  it  is  not  safe  to 
bathe,  or  even  to  wash  clothes,  many  cases  having  occurred 
of  fingers  and  toes  being  cut  off  by  them. 

5.  Of  course,  the  lines  which  are  used  to  capture  them 
have  to  be  armed  with  metal,  to  prevent  their  being  cut 
through.     Their  voracity  is  marvelous,  and  any  bait  will 
attract  them  the  instant  it  is  thrown  into  the  water.     Pre- 
caution is  necessary,  however,  when  the  fish  is  lifted  out 
of   the    water,   or  it  will   inflict    serious   wounds    in    its 
struggles.    The  fisherman,  therefore,  has  a  small  bludgeon 


96  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

ready,  with  which  he  breaks  their  skulls  as  soon  as  they 
are  caught. 

6.  Some  fish-hunters  use  other  fish  to  hunt  their  game, 
as  we  use  pointers  and  setters,  such  as  the  little  pilot-fish, 
which  leads  the  huge  shark  to  his  prey ;  though  this  has 
been  disputed,  because  the  pilot-fish  has  been  known  to 
follow  and  play  about  a  vessel  just  as  it  does  usually  about 
the  body  of  a  shark.     The  probability  is,  that  the  pilot-fish 
is  a  species  of  parasite  or  diner-out,  who  will  make  particu- 
lar friends  with  any  big  person  who  will  feed  him,  and  no 
doubt  would  find  food  in  the  refuse  cast  from  the  vessel, 
even  as  he  would  from  the  fragments  torn  off  by  the  shark 
when  feeding  on  any  large  body.     Doubtless,  too,  there  is 
a  certain  amount  of  protection  obtained  from  consorting 
with  monsters  against  other  predaceous  fish.     The  fact  of 
the  pilot-fish  conducting  the  shark  to   his  prey  has  been 
disputed,  but  veritable  instances  related  by  eye-witnesses 
leave  no  doubt  that  at  times  it  does  fulfill  this  office  for 
the  shark.      Nor  is  there  anything  singular  in  the  fact. 
The  pilot-fish  is  on  the  lookout  for  his  own  dinner,  proba- 
bly, but  will  not  venture  on  it  until   his  protector  has 
helped  himself.     We  have  numerous  similar  instances  both 
in  human  and  in  beast  life. 

7.  The  reader,  possibly,  has  never  witnessed  a  skall  in 
Scandinavia.     It  is  a  species  of  hunt  in  which  a  number 
of  sportsmen  take  in  a  wide  space  of  ground  where  game 
exists,  drawing  a  cordon  around  it,  narrowing  their  cir- 
cle little  by  little,  and   driving  the   game   together  into 
a  flock,  when  they  shoot  them  down.     Now  there  are  fish 
who  hunt  their  game  in  the  same  way.     Mr.  Lonee,  while 
fishing  off  the  Channel  Islands,  witnessed  a  skall  of  this 
kind.     His  attention  was  called  to  several  porpoises,  which 
seemed  to  be  engaged  in  a  water-frolic,  swimming  after  one 
another  in  a  circle,  and  he  pointed  it  out  to  Peter,  the  fish- 
erman who  accompanied  him. 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN   WATERS.  97 

8.  "That  is  no  frolic,  but  very  sober  earnest  for  the 
sand-eels,"  said  Peter.      "Now,"  he   continued,    "I  will 
show  you  a  sight  which  I  have  only  chanced  to  see  two 
or  three  times  in  my  life,  and  you  are  therefore  very  lucky 
to  have  the  opportunity  of  seeing  it  at  all.     There  is  a 
great  shoal  of  sand-eels  yonder,  and    the  porpoises  are 
driving  them  into  a  mass  ;  for  you  see  the  sand-eel  is  only 
a  very  small  morsel  for  a  porpoise,  and  to  pick  them  up 
one  by  one  would  not  suit  Mr.  Porpoise,  who  would  get 
hungry  again  by  the  time  he  had  done  feeding  on  them 
singly  ;  so  they  drive  the  eels  into  a  thick  crowd,  in  order 
that  when  they  make  a  dash  at  them  they  may  get  a  dozen 
or  two  at  a  mouthful.     But  as  we  want  some  for  bait,  we 
will  join  in  the  hunt." 

9.  They  edged  down  to  the  spot  until  they  were  within 
the  circle.     The  porpoises,  following  one  another  pretty 
closely,  were  swimming  around,  now  rising  to  the  surface, 
now  diving  below,  and  gradually  contracting  the  circle. 
The  terrified  sand-eels  were  driven  closer  and  closer,  and 
in  their  fear  came  to  the  surface  all  about  the  boat,  and, 
just  as  two  or  three  porpoises  made  a  dash  into  the  crowd, 
snapping  right  and  left,  the  fishermen  plunged  their  nets 
into  the  water,  and  brought  them  up  quite  full  of  these 
little  fish.    The  shoal  was  soon  dispersed,  but  the  skill  with 
which  the  skall  had  been  conducted  looked  very  much  like 

reasoning.  Frauds  Francis. 


FISHES  ARMED   WITH    LIGHTNING. 

1.  AMONG  other  powers,  offensive  and  defensive,  com- 
manded by  fish  and  men  alike,  is  the  very  remarkable  one 
of  electricity.  Several  species  of  fish  are  literally  armed 
with  lightning,  which  they  can  discharge  at  enemies  or 

prey  with  fatal  effect.     These  animated  electric  batteries 
5 


98  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

are  so  powerful  that  even  the  shark,  the  terror  of  all  the  fin- 
ny tribe,  after  one  encounter  never  seeks  another,  but  gives 
them  a  wide  berth.  As  all  varieties  of  the  electric  fishes 
live  quietly,  and  usually  in  the  mud  in  shallow  waters,  they 
would  be  peculiarly  exposed  to  the  attacks  of  the  larger  fish, 
but  their  power  of  self-defense  renders  them  invulnerable. 
For  purposes  other  than  defense  it  is  not  certainly  known 
how  this  peculiar  apparatus  serves  the  fish,  but  the  most 
reasonable  hypothesis  appears  to  be  that  the  shock  both 
stuns  the  prey  so  that  it  is  easily  caught,  and  effects  a 
change  by  which  digestion  is  facilitated.  In  support  of 
this  latter  point,  we  have  the  fact  that  the  alimentary  canal 
in  the  electric  fishes,  where  digestion  takes  place,  is  much 
shorter  than  in  any  other  of  the  vertebrated  animals. 

2.  The  electric  discharge  from  the  fish  is  precisely  the 
same  as  that  from  a  battery,  as  is  shown  by  rendering  the 
needle  magnetic,  by  its  effect  upon  chemical  compounds, 
and  by  the  heat  evolved  and  the  electric  spark  obtained. 
Upon  an  examination  of  the  fishes,  the  electric  apparatus 
is  found  to  consist  of  cells  arranged  and  connected  as  in 
a  galvanic  battery,  the  electric  conditions  probably  being 
maintained  through  the  nervous  structure  of  the  animal. 

3.  The  most  widely  scattered  of  the  electric  fishes  is 
the  torpedo,  which  belongs  to  the  rays  or  skates.     The 
body  is  smooth  and   rounded,   the  tail   short  and  thick, 
cylindrical  at  the  end  and  keeled  on  the  sides.     The  tor- 
pedo, take  it  all  in  all,  is  an  innocent-looking  fish,  and  the 
quizzical  expression  of  its  face  adds  to  the  harmlessness  of 
its  aspect.    But  woe  be  unto  man  or  animal  which  ventures 
to  trench  on  its  dignity  ! 

4.  The  electrical  apparatus  is  arranged  in  two  masses, 
one  on  each  side  of  the  skull.     It  is  composed  of  a  multi- 
tude of  perpendicular  columns,  in  the  shape  of  eight-sided 
prisms,  separated  by  walls  of  membrane  containing  a  fluid 
freely  supplied  with  blood,  and  laced  with   an  immense 


HIGHER  LIFE  IN  WATERS.  99 

number  of  nervous  filaments.  This  apparatus  is  some- 
thing like  the  galvanic  pile.  John  Hunter  counted  twelve 
hundred  columns  in  a  very  large  fish,  and  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  plates  to  the  inch.  In  one  specimen,  Pro- 
fessor Wyman  estimated  the  number  of  plates  in  an  Ameri- 
can torpedo,  a  species  which  sometimes  reaches  a  length 
of  four  and  one  half  feet,  and  a  width  of  three  feet,  at  the 
enormous  number  of  three  hundred  thousand,  the  prisms 
being  about  two  inches  in  height  and  containing  one  hun- 
dred plates  to  the  inch.  The  intervals  between  the  plates 


The  Torpedo. 

were  filled  with  an  albuminous   fluid,  mostly  water,  but 
containing  salt  in  solution. 

5.  In  the  torpedo  the  shock  is  most  powerful  when  con- 
nection is  made  between  the  back  and  the  abdomen.  Act- 
ual contact  with  the  fish,  however,  is  not  necessary,  as  it 
is  well  known  by  the  Neapolitan  fishermen  that  the  shock 
is  felt  when  the  water  is  dashed  on  it,  the  electric  current 
passing  up  along  the  stream,  the  circuit  being  completed 
through  the  earth  to  the  stomach  of  the  fish.  The  tor- 
pedo never  uses  its  power  for  aggressive  uses,  as  it  is  rather 
a  timid  fish  ;  but  it  makes  itself  dreaded  by  other  fish, 
which  soon  learn  to  let  this  living  electric  battery  alone. 


100  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

It  lives  on  small  fish,  and  keeps  near  the  bottom,  preferring 
a  muddy  bed  to  any  other.  There  are  about  twenty  spe- 
cies of  the  torpedo  found  in  the  different  seas  of  the  world. 

6.  The  most  powerful   of  all  the  electric  fishes,  how- 
ever, is  the  gymnotus,  or  electric  eel,  of  the  South  Ameri- 
can rivers.     It  has  been  well  described  as  an  electric  bat- 
tery with  an  eel  attachment.     The  electric  apparatus  of 
this  strange  creature  occupy  a  large  portion  of  the  length 
of  the  body,  and  are  four  in  number,  two  on  each  side. 
They  consist  of  an  assemblage  of  membranous,  horizontal 
plates,  intersected  by  delicate  vertical  plates,  and  the  cells 
thus  formed  are  filled  with  a  glutinous  matter.     Each  inch 
in  length  of  the  gymnotus  contains,  according  to  Hunter, 
two  hundred  and  forty  cells.     There  is  thus  an  enormous 
surface  of  the  electric  machinery.      The  discharge  is  so 
great  that  it  is  computed  by  Professor  Faraday  as  equal 
to  that  of  fifteen  Leyden-jars  of  three  thousand  five  hun- 
dred square-inch  surfaces. 

7.  This  creature  is  rather  sluggish  in  its  movements, 
and  is  only  dangerous  when  disturbed  by  interference.     It 
differs  from  other  eels  in  the  completeness  of  its  jaws  and 
in  the  possession  of  ribs.    The  skin  is  smooth  and  scaleless, 
and  the  head  is  flat  and  oval,  like  that  of  a  venomous  ser- 
pent.    It  has  more  than  a  hundred  sharp-pointed  teeth, 
but  it  never  bites,  except  when  eating  its  food. 

8.  In  the  rivers  of  tropical  South  America   it  is  fre- 
quently found  in  such  numbers  as  to  render  both  bathing 
and  fishing  extremely  dangerous.     It  is  found,  however, 
that  after  five  or  six  discharges  it  becomes  exhausted,  and 
can  produce  no  more  shocks  until  after  a  period  of  rest. 
The  Indians  have  learned  to  take  advantage  of  this,  and 
they  drive  wild  horses  into  the  streams,  who  trample  about 
in  the  mud,  receiving  the  electric  discharges  until  the  eels 
are  exhausted.     In  this  condition  they  are  speared  without 
inconvenience. 


PART  V. 
PYGMY  WORKERS  dJVD  BUILDERS. 

ANTS:  THEIR    HOMES  AND    HABITS. 

1.  "Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  observe  her  ways, 
and  be  wise,"  is  an  injunction  as  old  as  Solomon,  but  it 
may  be  followed  as  profitably  to-day  as  when  first  made 
three  thousand  years  ago.     When  we  go  to  the  ants,  we 
observe  a  well-ordered   community,   each  individual  per- 
forming its  allotted  task  for  the  good  of  the  whole,  and  ex- 
amples of  constructive  ability,  industry,  thrift,  and  the  wise 
adaptation  of  means  to  ends  perfectly  marvelous  in  so  tiny 
a  creature.     What  we  are  accustomed  to  call  instinct  here 
seems  to  approach  human  reason,  and  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  the  ants  do  not  possess  an  intelligence  that  places 
them  in  a  very  high  rank  among  organized  beings. 

2.  Observe  the  little  ants  of  our  fields  and  paths,  and 
see  how  they  work.    Watch  how  they  dig  *their  tunnels  and 
cover  them  in,  like  so  many  railway  engineers.     See  how 
they  stop,  every  now  and  then,  to  study  out  their  plans  ; 
how  they  consider  all  obstacles,  and  avoid  them  ;  how  they 
use  every  leaf  and  stick  and  straw  to  make  a  wall  or  a  roof 
for  their  galleries.    Who  is  the  foreman,  or  "boss,"  as  men 
sometimes  say  ?     Sometimes  a  single  ant  has  hit  upon  a 
new  plan  ;  he  goes  to  work  on  it ;  the  others  soon  adopt 
the  improvement,  and  help  the  skillful  inventor ;  they  are 


102  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

all  as  busy  as  possible,  and  yet  they  all  have  their  common 
plan.  The  queen  lays  her  eggs  ;  the  workers  take  care  of 
them,  and  keep  running  with  them  from  place  to  place, 
always  with  some  object.  Almost  all  ants  have  several 
stories  or  sets  of  cells  for  their  houses  in  this  way. 

3.  Then  they  watch  the  state  of  the  weather  very  care- 
fully.    If  the  sun  is  warm,  and  it  will  do  the  eggs  good  to 
be  in  the  upper  galleries,  every  little  ant  begins  tugging 
them  along  to  put  them  in  a  warm  place.    Then  if  it  grows 
very  hot  indeed,  so  as  to  make  the  upper  galleries  too  sul- 
try, the  eggs  are  carried  down  into  the  next  row,  where  it 
is  cooler.    Then  if  a  sudden  rain  comes,  making  these  mid- 
dle galleries  too  damp,  up  run  the  little  busy  workers,  and 
carry  all  the  eggs  to  safe  chambers  far  underground.     We 
sometimes  think  that  a  single  baby  makes  a  great  deal  of 
work  in  a  house.     But  suppose  that  in  every  house  there 
were  a  thousand  babies,  and  that  every  baby  had  a  nurse, 
and  that  all  these  nurses  were  running  to  and  fro  all  day 
with  the  babies  in  their  arms,  carrying  them  from  room  to 
room,  to  sun  them  or  air  them  or  dry  them,  what  a  scene 
there  would  be,  and  how  the  nurses  and  babies  would  tum- 
ble over  each  other,  up  stairs  and  down  !     And  yet  that  is 
what  goes  on  all  the  time  in  the  ants'  nurseries. 

4.  With  almost  human  intelligence  ants  also  show  hu- 
man passion  and  pugnacity.     Henry  Thoreau  once  saw  a 
battle  between  two  tribes  of  ants  which  exhibited  all  the 
rage  and  destructive  tendencies  usually  seen  upon  battle- 
fields.    He  says  :  "  One  day  when  I  went  out  to  my  wood- 
pile I  observed  two  large  ants,  the  one  red,  the  other  much 
larger,  nearly  half  an  inch  long,  and  black,  fiercely  con- 
tending with  one  another.     Having  once  got  hold,  they 
never  let  go,  but  struggled  and  wrestled  and  rolled  on  the 
chips  incessantly.     Looking  farther,  I  was  surprised  to  find 
that  the  chips  were  covered  with  such  combatants,  that  it 
was  a  war  between  two  races  of  ants,  the  red  always  pitted 


PYGMY  WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  103 

against  the  black,  and  frequently  two  red  ones  to  one  black. 
On  every  side  they  were  engaged  in  deadly  combat,  yet 
without  any  noise  that  I  could  hear,  and  human  soldiers 
never  fought  so  resolutely.  I  watched  a  couple  that  were 
fast  locked  in  each  other's  embraces,  in  a  little  sunny  valley 
amid  the  chips,  now  at  noonday  prepared  to  fight  till  the 
sun  went  down,  or  life  went  out. 

5.  "  The  smaller  red  champion  had  fastened  himself 
like  a  vise  to  his  adversary's  front,  and  through  all  the 
tumblings  on  that  field  never  for  an  instant  ceased  to  gnaw 
at  one  of  his  feelers  near  the  root,  having  already  caused 
the  other  to  go  by  the  board  ;  while  the  stronger  black  one 
dashed  him  from  side  to  side,  and,  as  I  saw  on  looking 
nearer,  had  already  divested  him  of  several  of  his  members. 
They  fought  with  more  pertinacity  than  bull-dogs.    Neither 
manifested  the  least  disposition  to  retreat.     It  was  evident 
that  their  battle-cry  was  '  Conquer  or  die.7     In  the  mean 
time  there  came  along  a  single  red  ant  on  the  hillside  of 
this  valley,  evidently  full  of  excitement,  who  either  had 
dispatched  his  foe  or  had  not  yet  taken  part  in  the  battle. 
He  saw  this  unequal  combat  from  afar — for  the  blacks  were 
nearly  twice  the  size  of  the  reds — he  drew  near  with  rapid 
pace  till  he  stood  on  his  guard  within  half  an  inch  of  the 
combatants  ;   then,   watching  his  opportunity,   he  sprang 
upon   the  black  warrior,   and   commenced  his  operations 
near  the  root  of  his  right  fore-leg,  leaving  the  foe  to  select 
among  his  own  members  ;  and  so  there  were  three  united 
for  life,  as  if  a  new  kind  of  attraction  had  been  invented 
which  put  all  other  locks  and  cement  to  shame. 

6.  "I  should  not  have  wondered  by  this  time  to  find 
that  they  had  their  respective  musical  bands  stationed  on 
some  eminent  chip,   and  playing  their  national  airs  the 
while  to  excite  the  slow  and  cheer  the  dying  combatants. 
I  was  myself  excited  somewhat  as  if  they  had  been  men. 
The  more  you  think  of  it,  the  less  the  difference.     I  never 


104  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

learned  which  party  was  victorious,  nor  what  the  cause  of 
the  war ;  but  I  felt  for  the  rest  of  that  day  as  if  I  had  had 
my  feelings  excited  and  harrowed  by  witnessing  the  strug- 
gle, the  ferocity  and  carnage  of  a  human  battle  before  my 
door." 

7.  In  another  respect  ants  show  their  kinship  to  the 
human.    Some  ant  tribes  make  a  business  of  capturing  and 
holding  slaves.     At  the  head  of  the  slave-makers  are  the 
little  red  ants,  known  as  the  Amazon  ants.     They  set  about 
their  raids  in  a  systematic  manner,  always  starting  at  night- 
fall.    Their  victims  are  usually  the  industrious  little  miner 
ants.     When  they  have  issued  from  their  abode,  the  Ama- 
zons array  themselves  in  serried  columns,  and  their  army 
takes  its  way  to  the  ants'  nest  which  they  are  about  to  de- 
spoil.    In  vain  do  the  vrarriors  of  the  beleaguered  city  seek 
to  bar  the  entrance  ;  in  spite  of  all  such  eiforts  the  others 
penetrate  into  the  very  heart  of  the  place,  and  pry  into  all 
the  compartments  in  order  to  choose  their  victims,  the 
larvae  and  nymphs,  this  latter  being  the  name  given  to  the 
larvae  after  they  have  spun  their  cocoons,  whence  they  are 
to  emerge  perfect  insects.    The  workers  which  oppose  those 
raids  are  simply  thrown  down  ;  they  a_*3  not  made  prison- 
ers, because  they  would  adapt  themselves  with  difficulty  to 
the  yoke  ;  the  assailants  want  only  young  individuals  which 
they  can  mold  to  their  will. 

8.  \Yhen  the  place  is  completely  sacked,  each  conqueror 
takes  a  nymph  or  larva  delicately  between  its  teeth  and 
prepares  to  return.     Those  who  can  not  find  nymphs  or 
larvae,  carry  off  the  mutilated  dead  bodies  of  their  enemies 
in  order  to  feed  on  them.     Then  the  whole  army,  laden 
with  booty,  and  sometimes  stretching  out  in  a  line  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length,  triumphantly  regains  its 
city  in  the  same  order  as  at  its  departure. 

9.  As  soon  as  the  young  ants  torn  from  their  homes 
reach  the  abode  of  their  spoilers,  the  slaves  already  there 


PYGMY  WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  105 

lavish  the  most  attentive  care  upon  them  ;  they  give  them 
food,  cleanse  them,  and  warm  their  chilled  bodies. 

10.  In  the  slave-making  republics  conquerors  and  slaves 
finish  by  changing  places.     The  warrior-robbers  only  dis- 
play courage  in  fighting.     The  instant  they  have  stowed 
away  their  booty  in  the  nest,  the  Amazons  refresh  them- 
selves after  battle  by  the  pleasures  of  laziness.     But  they 
soon  become  enervated,  and  the  spoilers  pass  under  the 
yoke  of  those  they  have  conquered.     This  dependence  is  so 
great  that,  if  they  were  deprived  of  their  slaves,  privations 
and  inaction  would  speedily  destroy  the  tribe. 

11.  The  warrior  ants,  ardent  in  battle  and  the  chase, 
revolt  against  all  domestic  work,  for  they  only  understand 
fighting.     Incapable  of  building  their  own  abodes,  or  nour- 
ishing their  young,  they  leave  these  duties  to  their  slaves. 
When  the  tribe  is  forced  to  abandon  a  nest  on  account  of 
its  being  too  old  or  too  small,  the  slaves  decide  the  question 
of  emigration.     They  do  not,  however,  run  oif  and  leave 
their  helpless  tyrants,  but  each  one  takes  one  of  its  degen- 
erate masters  in  its  mandibles  and  bears  it  to  the  new 
dwelling,  just  as  a  cat  carries  its  kitten  in  its  mouth. 


THE    APHIDES   AND    THEIR    KEEPERS. 

1.  THE  aphides  are  the  small  green  'insects,  generally 
known  as  plant-lice,  which  infest  our  gardens.     Insignifi- 
cant as  may  be  a  single  aphis,  these  insects  are  most  for- 
midable from  their  numbers,  as  all  gardeners  know  to  their 
cost.     Eoses  are  often  so  thickly  covered  with  these  pesti- 
lential insects  that   the  leaves  and  buds  are   completely 
hidden,  the  latter  never  being  permitted  to  develop  them- 
selves into  flowers. 

2.  These  insects  are  prolific  almost  beyond  belief.     As 


106  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

a  general  rule,  insects  lay  eggs  which  are  hatched,  pass 
through  the  state  of  larva  and  pupa,  and  then  become  per- 
fect insects.  But  the  plant-lice  go  on  a  very  different  plan. 
A  female  aphis  takes  her  place  on  a  branch — say  of  the 
rose — plunges  her  beak  into  the  tender  bark,  and  begins  to 
suck  the  sap.  After  a  short  time  she  begins  to  produce 
young  aphides  at  an  average  rate  of  fourteen  per  diem. 
These  young  creatures  are  just  like  their  mother,  only 
less,  and  immediately  follow  her  example  by  first  sucking 
the  sap  of  the  plant  and  then  producing  fresh  young. 

3.  It  is  in  consequence  of  this  remarkable  mode  of  pro- 
duction that  the  twigs  and  buds  become  so  rapidly  covered 
with  aphides,  the  quickly  succeeding  generations  crawling 
over  the  backs  of  their  predecessors,  so  as  to  arrive  at  an 
unoccupied  spot  of  bark  in  which  they  can  drive  their 
beaks.     Thus,   at  the  beginning  of  a  week,  say  on  Mon- 
day, a  rose-tree  may  be  apparently  free  from  aphides,  or 
have  at  the  most  six  or  seven  of  the  "blight"  upon  it, 
but  by  Thursday  the  whole  plant  will  be  so  thickly  covered 
with  aphides  that  scarcely  a  particle  of  the  bark  can  be 
seen,  the  whole  being  crowded  with  the  green  bodies  of  the 
insect,  each  with  its  beak  dug  deeply  into  the  plant,  and 
draining  it  of  its  juices. 

4.  The  natural  foe  of  the  aphides  is  the  bright  little 
spotted  beetle  known  as  the  lady-bug,  or  lady-bird.     Beau- 
tiful as  are  the  lady-birds,  it  is  not  for  their  beauty  alone 
that  they  are  valued,  inasmuch   as  they  are  among  the 
greatest  benefactors  of  civilized  man,  and  preserve  many 
a  harvest  which,  but  for  their  aid,  would  be  hopelessly 
lost.     For  in  their  larval  state  they  feed  upon  the  aphides, 
and,  being  exceedingly  voracious,  devour  vast  numbers  of 
these  destructive  insects.     Few  persons  would  suppose,  on 
looking  at  the  coccinella  larva,  what  was  its  real  condition 
of  life.     It  looks  as  harmless,  dull,  sluggish  a  creature  as 
can  be  imagined,  and  much  more  likely  to  be  eaten  itself 


PYGMY   WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  107 

than  to  eat  other  insects.  Yet,  with  all  this  innocence  of 
aspect,  it  is  so  ruthless  a  destroyer  of  animal  life  that,  if  a 
few  of  them  be  placed  on  a  bush  or  plant  which  is  infested 
with  aphides,  in  a  day  or  two  not  an  aphis  will  be  left. 

5.  From  the  back  of  the  aphides,  and  toward  the  tail, 
there  are  two  slender  projections.     These  are  tubes,  from 
which  exudes  a  sweet  liquid,  which,  with  the  aid  of  the 
microscope,  can  be  seen  starting,  in  minute  drops,  from  the 
end  of  each  tube.    When  the  aphides  are  in  great  profusion 
upon  a  tree,  this  liquid  falls  from  them,  and  covers  the 
leaves  with  the  sweet,  sticky  substance  which  is  so  familiar 
to  us  under  the  name  of  "honey-dew."     Trees  thus  distin- 
guished are  always  overrun  by  swarms  of  ants,  which  lick 
the  sweet  droppings  from  the  leaves  and  hold  high  revels 
on  this  substance,  whose  origin  was  once  so  mysterious. 

6.  The  ants  even  go  farther  than  this.     Not  content 
with  taking  the  honey-dew  that  has  fallen  from  the  aphides, 
they  anticipate  its  fall,  and  eagerly  lap  up  the  sweet  secre- 
tion as  it  exudes  from  the  insects.     In  fact,  they  make 
much  the  same  use  of  the  aphides  as  we  do  of  cows,  and 
even  carry  off  the  ant-cows,  as  they  may  be  called,  to  their 
own  nests,  and  there  keep  them.     That  the  ants  do  this 
has  long  been  known,  but  the  notion  of  keeping  milch- 
cows  seemed  so  far  beyond  the  capacities  of  an  insect  that 
many  persons  refused  to  give  credence  to  so  romantic  a 
story. 

7.  I  have  often  watched  an  ant  go  from  one  aphis  to 
another,  stand  behind  each,  and  gently  squeeze  the  body 
with  its  fore-legs ;   perhaps  one   aphis  in  ten,  not   more, 
will  give  out  a  small  drop  of  honey  as  clear  as  crystal,  which 
the  ants  instantly  swallow.     The  ants  take  much  more  care 
of  the  aphides  than  the  aphides  do  of  themselves  ;  they  are 
sad,  dull,  stupid  creatures.     It  is  very  pretty  to  see  the 
licking  and  washing  and  cleaning  and  caressing  which  the 
ants  constantly  bestow  on  them.     When  the  aphides  cast 


108  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

their  skin,  the  ants  instantly  carry  it  away,  nor  will  they 
let  any  dirt  or  rubbish  remain  among  them  or  on  them. 

8.  But  the  most  amusing  care  of  the  ant  is  guarding 
the  aphides  from  the  attacks  of  that  little  parasitic   fly 
whose  operations  Mr.  Haliday  has  so  well  described.     You 
must  have  seen  a  sheep-dog  run  over  the  backs  of  a  whole 
flock  of  sheep,  when  closely  crowded  together,  in  order  to 
bring  back  some  sinner  that  has  gone  astray ;  so  will  the 
ants,  in  the  hot  sunshine,  run  about  over  an  establishment 
of  aphides,  driving  away  the  rascally  parasite  that  is  for- 
ever hovering  over  to  destroy  them. 

9.  The  mode  in  which  the  ichneumon-flies  operate  on 
the  aphis  is  very  remarkable.     As  may  be  inferred  from 
the  size  of  the  aphides,  on  which  they  are  parasitic,  they 
are  of  very  small  dimensions,  and  one  of  these  tiny  creat- 
ures, when  standing  on  the  back  of  an  aphis  which  it  is 
about  to  wound,  looks   much  liks  a  rook  perched  on  a 
sheep's  back. 

10.  When  the  fatal  egg  has  been  introduced  under  the 
skin  of  the  aphis,  the  wounded  insect,  like  the  stricken 
hart,  separates  itself  from  its  fellows  and   passes  to  the 
under-side  of  a  leaf,  and  there  fixes  itself.     Its  body  soon 
begins  to  swell,  and  at  last  becomes  quite  globular  and 
horny,  the  change  being  caused  by  the  death  of  the  aphis 
and  the  rapid  growth  of  the  parasite  within  it.     The  ich- 
neumon passes  rapidly  through  its  changes,  and  in  a  short 
time  assumes  the  perfect  form,  always  with  its  head  next 
the  tail  of  its  victim,  pushes  off  the  last  two  or  three  seg- 
ments of  the  dead  aphis,  and  makes  its  escape  into  the 
world.     The  dead  and  empty  skins  of  such  hapless  aphides 
may  be  found  plentifully  toward  the  end  of  summer  stick- 
ing firmly  to  the  leaf,  and  showing  the  round  aperture 
through  which  the  destroying  parasite  has  crept. 

11.  Sometimes  there  is  a  sort  of  contest  between  the 
aphis  and  the  ichneumon-fly ;   the  former,  however,  hav- 


PYGMY  WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  109 

ing  no  more  chance  against  its  tiny  foe  than  has  a  rab- 
bit against  a  weasel.  If  the  aphis  have  its  beak  deeply 
plunged  into  the  bark,  the  ichneumon-fly  has  an  easy  task, 
for  the  aphis  can  do  nothing  but  kick  and  struggle,  while 
anchored  to  the  spot  by  its  proboscis,  and  all  that  the  ich- 
neumon-fly has  to  do  is  to  make  its  deadly  lunge.  But,  if 
the  aphis  be  wandering  about  the  plant,  the  ichneumon- 
fly  has  to  walk  about  with  it,  and  try  first  one  side  and 
then  the  other,  until  she  can  find  an  opportunity  of  deposit- 
ing her  egg.  Rev.  J.  a.  Wood. 


SPINNERS   OF  THE    MULBERRY-TREES. 

1.  OF  all  the  insect  tribes,  the  ways  and  transformations 
of  the  mulberry  silk-worm  are  probably  the  best  known. 
The  accurate  and  minute  knowledge  which  we  have  of  this 
insect  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  success  in  the  production 
of  silk  is  rendered  possible  only  by  carefully  studying  every 
phase  of  the  life  of  the  silk- worm,  and  by  providing  the 
conditions  necessary  to  its  healthful  development.     There 
are  many  varieties  of  silk-producing  worms,  each  feeding 
upon  the  leaves  of  some  special  plant,  but  only  a  few  whose 
products  can  be  successfully  and  economically  manufac- 
tured.    Within  a  short  time  past  successful  experiments 
have  been  made  with  the  varieties  which  feed  upon  the  oak 
and  the  ailanthus,  but  still  the  spinners*  of  the  mulberry- 
trees  continue  to  furnish  the  greater  part  of  the  world's 
supply  of  silk. 

2.  The  silk-worms  are  hatched  from  eggs  about  the  size 
of  a  mustard-seed,  an  ounce  of  eggs  producing  from  thirty 
thousand  to  forty  thousand  worms.     Scarce  is  the  worm 
born  than  he  begins  to  eat.     Indeed,  it  has  no  time  to  lose, 
for,   before  reaching  maturity,  it  must  gain  seventy-two 
thousand  times  its  own  weight ;  so,  to  acquit  itself  con- 


110  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

scientiously  of  its  task,  it  does  nothing  but  eat,  digest,  and 
sleep.  In  about  five  days  this  devouring  appetite  ceases ; 
the  little  worm  becomes  almost  motionless,  hangs  itself  by 
its  hind  feet,  raising  and  holding  a  little  inclined  the 
anterior  part  of  its  body.  This  repose  lasts  twenty-four, 
thirty-six,  or  forty-eight  hours,  according  to  temperature  ; 
then  the  dvied-up  skin  splits  open  behind  the  head,  and 
soon  along  the  length  of  the  body.  The  caterpillar  comes 
out  with  a  new  skin,  which  has  been  formed  during  this 
sleep. 

3.  The  process  of  insects  shedding  their  old  skin  and 
emerging  in  a  new  one  is  usually  termed  moulting,  but  in 
silk-culture  it  is  termed   sickness;  for  this  is  a  critical 
period  in  the  life  of  a  silk-worm,  and  many  of  the  weaker 
ones  do  not  survive  it.     Before  reaching  maturity,  the  skin 
is  changed  four  times,  in  periods  varying  from  three  to 
eight  days,  the  worm  eating  voraciously  after  each  moult- 
ing, and  becoming  nearly  dormant  for  a  brief  period  before 
the  next  change.     After  the  skin  is  shed  for  the  last  time, 
the  growth  becomes  very  rapid,  and  maturity  is  reached  in 
about  ten  days,  giving  the  insect  a  life  of  about  thirty- two 
days  in  the  larva  state. 

4.  At  this  point  it  ceases  to  eat,  and  the  alimentary 
canal   is   entirely  emptied   of   food ;   it   appears  restless, 
wanders  about,  and  seeks  to  climb.     When  furnished  with 
a  proper  kind  of  branch,  it  mounts  upon  it,  and,  choosing 
a  convenient  place,  it  hangs  itself  by  its  hind  feet,  and 
soon  through  its  spinner  a  thread  of  silk  makes  its  appear- 
ance.    This  is  at  first  cast  out  in  any  direction,  and  forms 
a  collection  of  cords,  which  shall  attach  the  cocoon  to  be 
spun  to  the  surrounding  twigs.     Next  the  form  of  the  co- 
coon is  outlined,  and  then  for  some  hours  we  can  see  the 
worker  performing  his  task  through  the  transparent  gauze 
with  which  he  surrounds  himself.     Little  by  little  this 
gauze  thickens  and  grows  opaque,  until  finally  it  becomes 


PYGMY    WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS. 


Ill 


a  perfect  cocoon.     At  the  end  of  about  seventy-two  hours 
the  work  is  done. 

5.  Having  once  commenced,  the  worm  continues  to 
spin,  and  the  thread  is  unbroken  from  one  end  to  the 
other.  The  cocoon  is  thus  seen  to  be  really  a  ball  wound 


The  Silk-worm. 

from  the  inside.  The  thread  which  forms  it  is  eleven 
miles  long,  and  weighs  about  six  grains.  Let  us  for  a  mo- 
ment consider  the  prodigious  activity  of  the  silk-worm 
while  spinning  its  thread.  To  dispose  of  the  silk,  it  moves 
its  head  in  all  directions,  each  movement  being  about  one 


112  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

sixth  of  an  inch.  To  finish  his  task  in  the  seventy-two 
hours  requires  about  three  hundred  thousand  motions  in  a 
day,  or  sixty-nine  every  minute.  No  weaver  can  equal  this 
in  activity  for  a  single  hour,  and  much  less  would  any  one 
be  able  to  keep  up  to  the  highest  rate  of  speed  for  three 
days  in  succession. 

6.  The  silk-worm  has  now  changed  from  the  larva  to 
the  pupa  state.     After  finishing  his  cocoon  he  becomes 
torpid  once  more.     His  body  is  inclosed  in  a  kind  of  shell, 
the  color  of  which  is  a  golden  yellow.     A  very  slight  move- 
ment of  the  posterior  part,  which  requires  the  closest  at- 
tention to  observe,  is  the  only  sign  of  life.     Yet,  within,  a 
most  remarkable  change  is  taking  place,  and  in  about  fif- 
teen days  is  complete.     The  shell  of  the  pupa  now  splits 
open,  as  did  the  skin  of  the  larva,  and  there  emerges  a 
complete  butterfly — a  creature  as  unlike  the  forms  through 
which  it  has  already  passed  as  can  well  be  imagined. 

7.  This  butterfly  is  almost  an  inch  long  and  two  inches 
across  when  its  wings  are  spread.     It  is  of  a  whitish  or 
pale  yellow  color.     Sex  in  the  silk-worm  is  developed  only 
in  the  butterfly  form.     The  male  flies  about  chiefly  in  the 
evening,  but  the  females  have  but  little  activity.     In  three 
days  the  female  deposits  about  five  hundred  eggs,  and  as 
her  work  is  ended  she  immediately  dies ;  the  life  of  the 
male  has  about  the  same  duration. 

8.  When  the  cocoons  are  spun  they  are  separated  into 
two  parts — those  which  are  to  be  wound,  and  those  which 
are  reserved  for  hatching  the  butterflies  from  which  the 
new  supply  of  eggs  is  to  be  obtained.      The  former  are 
placed  in  hot  water,  which  kills  the  pupa  within,  and  the 
silk  is  wound  off  from  the  outside. 

9.  Such  is  a  brief  history  of  the  life  of  an  insect  which 
forms  the  basis  of  one  of  the  greatest  industries  of  the 
world.     Silk-making  probably  originated  in  China,  and  is 
now  extensively  carried  on  in  that  country  and  in  Japan. 


PYGMY   WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  113 

In  Europe  the  principal  silk-producing  countries  are  France 
and  Italy.  The  manufacture  has  spread  into  other  coun- 
tries, and  it  is  becoming  a  quite  important  industry  in  the 
United  States. 

10.  In  raising  cocoons,  two  things  are  necessary  —  a 
climate  and  soil  that  will  produce  mulberry- trees  (and 
this  is  found  in  the  United  States  almost  anywhere  south 
of  latitude  43°),  and  intelligent  care  during-  the  brief 
period  of  the  silk-worm's  existence.  This  part  of  the 
silk-culture  is  essentially  a  home  industry.  The  silk- 
worms require  such  delicate  and  individual  care  that  the 
best  results  are  attained  from  small  orchards  of  mulberries 
and  a  limited  amount  of  worms  in  one  establishment.  By 
devoting  an  acre  or  two  to  the  cultivation  of  the  trees,  the. 
children  and  unproductive  members  of  the  family  can  do 
the  very  light  work  necessary  during  the  six  weeks'  care  of 
the  worms.  In  this  way  the  family  can  receive  a  substan- 
tial benefit,  the  profits  often  being  greater  from  this  small 
number  of  trees  than  from  all  the  remainder  of  the  farm. 
The  demand  for  cocoons  is  so  great  that  there  is  no  danger 
of  overstocking  the  market. 


HONEY-GATHERERS^ 

1.  IN  all  ages  the  bee  communities  have  been  regarded 
with  great  interest  by  observers  of  nature.  The  facts  re- 
sulting from  even  a  cursory  observation  are  such  as  to 
excite  admiration  and  astonishment.  Here,  among  di- 
minutive insects,  is  found  a  society  perfectly  organized 
and  well  ordered  ;  the  members  continually  industrious 
and  showing  a  wise  thrift  in  regard  to  the  future,  and 
displaying  a  high  degree  of  seeming  intelligence  in  adapt- 


114  NATURAL  BISTORT  READER. 

ing  means  to  ends.  It  is  observed,  also,  that  they  are  archi. 
tects  of  no  mean  order,  constructing  communal  homes  per- 
fectly adapted  to  the  needs  of  the  individual,  and  serving 
in  the  highest  degree  the  wants  of  the  whole.  In  con- 
structing hexagonal  cells,  they  choose  the  only  form  that 
would  economically  fill  the  entire  space,  leaving  no  waste 
room,  and  in  this  they  show  that  they  possess  geometric 
art,  though  they  may  not  be  acquainted  with  geometric 
science. 

2.  A  little  closer  observation  reveals  other  facts  of  great 
interest*     A  single  queen  is  found  in  each  community, 
who  is  at  once  the  mother  and  the  ruler  of  the  society, 
and  to  her  loyal  homage  is  paid  by  all  the  members.     The 
society  itself  is  divided  into  drones  and  workers,  the  for- 
mer males  and  few  in  number,  and  the  latter  neuters,  con- 
stituting the  mass  of  the  community.     It  is  seen,  also,  that 
the  cells  are  used  for  different  purposes,  and  for  each  use 
they  are  of  somewhat  different  structure.     The  mass  of  the 
cells  are  for  the  purpose  of  storing  honey,  and  this  forms 
the  honey-comb  which  is  brought  to  the  table.     In  other 
cells  the  eggs  are  deposited  and  the  young  bees  kept  while 
in  their  pupa  state.     These  cells  are  of  three  kinds,  as 
adapted,  respectively,  to  the  queen,  the  workers,  and  the 
drones,  the  royal  cell  being  several  times  larger  than  the 
others.     In  other  cells  is  stored  the  food  known  as  bee- 
bread,  upon  which  the  larva  is  fed,  the  royal  jelly,  fed  to 
prospective  queens  exclusively,  being  kept  by  itself. 

3.  The  workers  gather  honey  principally  from  flowers, 
storing  it  in  the  honey-cells  for  food  during  the  winter ; 
and  at  a  certain  time  before  the  honey  season  ends  they  ex- 
pel the  drones  from  the  hive,  and  leave  them  to  perish  for 
want  of  food.     The  phenomenon  of  swarming  is  also  well 
known.     At  a  period,  usually  in  early  summer,  the  whole 
hive  seems  to  be  in  a  state  of  commotion,  and  great  num- 
bers of  bees  collect  in  masses  upon  the  outside  of  their  hive. 


PYGMY    WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  115 

After  hanging  there  for  a  time  they  set  off  together  to  find 
a  new  home,  leaving  a  portion  still  in  possession  of  the  old 
one.  Those  who  take  care  of  bees  prepare  for  this,  and 
have  a  home  ready  for  the  new  swarm. 

4.  So  far,  these  facts,  patent  to  every  observer,  have 
long  been  well  known,  but  the  more  minute  details  of  bee 
life  were  revealed  for  the  first  time  about  the  close  of  the 
last  century  by  Francis  Huber,  the  Swiss  naturalist,  who 
devoted  most  of  his  life  to  the  study  of  their  ways.     What 
is  most  remarkable  about  these  discoveries  is  that  Huber 
was  blind,  and  was  obliged  to  see  exclusively  through  the 
eyes   of  others.     He   had   a  mind,  however,  wonderfully 
keen,  alert,  and  well  trained,  and  his  affliction  obliged  him 
to  verify  his  work  at  every  step,  so  as  to  preclude  the  pos- 
sibility of  mistake.     His  discoveries,  published  in  1792, 
were  first  received  with  incredulity,  but  all  subsequent  ob- 
servation has  served  to  confirm  them.     Indeed,  since  his 
time  nothing  has  been  added  to  our  knowledge  of  the  bees 
save  the  settlement  of  a  few  points  which  he  raised,  and 
about  which  he  expressed  some  doubt.     Some  of  the  most 
interesting  of  his  discoveries  are  as  follows  : 

5.  The  neuter  or  worker  bees  are  all  imperfectly  de- 
veloped females,  and,  with  proper  treatment,  the  larva  of 
any  one  of  them  may  become  a  queen.     The  queen,  when 
perfectly  developed,  lays  its  eggs,  from  which  the  diiferent 
kinds  of  bees  are  hatched,  without  mistake,  in  the  cells  pre- 
pared for  each  ;  but  when  the  queen  is  imperfect  she  makes 
mistakes,  and  deposits  drones'  eggs  in  worker  cells,  and 
vice  versa.     The  workers,  however,  rectify  these  mistakes, 
and  change  the  cells  to  meet  the  new  conditions.     In  one 
respect,  however,  they  are  at  fault :  if  a  drone's  egg  is  de- 
posited in  a  royal  cell,  they  dose  the  poor  fellow  to  death 
trying  to  make  a  queen  of  him. 

6.  Just  before  the  swarming  season  begins  the  workers 
construct  royal  cells,  sometimes  to  the  number  of  twenty- 


116  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

seven.  In  these  the  queen  deposits  eggs  on  successive 
days,  so  that  when  she  leads  off  the  new  swarm  another 
queen  will  be  ready  to  take  her  place ;  and  also  that,  if 
the  swarm  be  vigorous  enough  to  throw  off  several  colonies, 
each  may  be  provided  with  a  leader.  About  the  time  the  new 
queens  are  coming  out  the  old  queen  seems  to  be  possessed 
with  a  complete  frenzy,  fiercely  attacking  the  royal  cells 
and  stinging  the  occupants  to  death.  The  first  new  queen 
that  comes  out  also  shows  the  same  rage,  and  endeavors  to 
kill  all  the  larvae  in  the  other  queen  cells.  At  this  time  the 
instinct  of  the  workers  seems  reversed  ;  they  no  longer  im- 
plicitly obey,  but,  gathering  about  the  royal  cells,  they  in- 
terpose their  bodies  in  such  a  manner  as  to  frustrate  the 
intentions  of  the  queen  until  the  paroxysm  of  her  anger  has 
passed.  Their  resistance  is  entirely  passive,  and  as  soon  as 
she  becomes  quiet  they  again  become  faithful  and  obedient 
subjects. 

7.  If  a  swarm  of  bees  finds  itself  suddenly  queenless, 
the  workers  immediately  select  the  larva  of  a  worker  bee, 
not  over  three  days  old,  and  enlarge  the  cell  by  cutting 
down  the  partition-walls  between  it  and  two  adjoining  cells, 
destroying  the  inmates,  and  then  they  supply  the  larva  thus 
selected  with  royal  jelly.     The  nursery  of  the  royal  heir  is 
thus  elongated,  and  is  capped  over  with  a  peculiar  covering. 
In  sixteen  days  from  the  time  it  is  hatched  it  becomes  a 
queen.    Under  such  circumstances,  the  new  queen,  upon  her 
birth,  is  allowed  to  kill  all  her  possible  rivals  in  the  royal 
cells.     Should  two  queens  emerge  at  the  same  time,  the 
workers  form  a  ring,  so  as  to  insure  fair  play,  and  let  them 
fight  until  one  is  killed,  when  they  give  their  adhesion  to 
the  other. 

8.  If  a  strange  queen  be  introduced  into  a  swarm  pos- 
sessing one  of  their  own,  the  workers  surround  her  and 
quietly  detain  her  as  prisoner  until  she  perishes  with  hunger, 
but  they  offer  her  no  direct  violence.     Should  the  strange 


PYGMY   WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  H7 

queen  pass  all  the  sentinels  and  guards,  until  she  comes  in 
presence  of  the  old  queen,  a  battle  is  inevitable,  as  the 
workers  will  detain  either  if  they  seem  disposed  to  fly. 

9.  After  the  loss  of  a  queen  by  a  swarm,  if  a  strange 
queen  be  introduced,  her  reception  will  depend  entirely 
upon  the  time  which  has  elapsed  since  their  bereavement. 
At  first  they  refuse  to  be  comforted,  and  reject  any  attempt 
to  replace  their  loss.     After  eighteen  hours  they  begin  to 
consider  the  matter,  and  in  twenty-four  receive,  with  royal 
honors,  any  queen  which  may  be  offered  them. 

10.  A  common  bee,  when  it  reaches  its  maturity,  emerges 
from  its  cell  without  help,  but  for  some  time  it  is  too  weak 
to  fly.    A  queen,  however,  is  guarded  by  the  workers  ;  she  is 
closely  watched,  and  constantly  fed  through  a  small  aper- 
ture in  the  covering  of  her  cell,  until  she  has  attained  suf- 
ficient strength  to  fly.     The  presence  of  a  developed  and 
imprisoned  queen  is  generally  made  known  by  a  peculiar 
note  which  she  utters,  called  "piping."     Above  the  busy 
hum  of  the  hive  this  sound  may  be  distinguished  ;  it  seems 
to  be  the  expression  of  her  impatience  at  her  imprisonment, 
and  is  the  usual  precursor  of  swarming. 

11.  When  the  swarming  season  arrives,  and  the  drones 
and  some  of  the  new  queens  have  nearly  arrived  at  matu- 
rity, the  old  queen  becomes  violently  agitated,  and  rapidly 
passes  over  the  combs,  communicating  her  agitation  to  all 
she  meets.     In  a  short  time  the  whole  swarm  appears  to  be 
in  a  violent  state  of  excitement.     Within  the  hive  the  ther- 
mometer rises  from  between  90°  and  95°  to  104°,  a  heat  in- 
tolerable to  the  bees,  and,  with  the  queen  at  their  head,  they 
rush  impetuously  out  of  the  hives.     The  initial  cause  of 
the  queen's  agitation  is  not  known,  but  the  swarming  is  as 
much  occasioned  by  the  excessive  heat  as  by  the  overstocked 
hive. 

12.  Honey  is  not  directly  obtained  from  flowers,  but  is 
a  saccharine  substance  which  is  worked  over  bv  the  inter- 


118  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

nal  organs  of  the  bees.  The  pollen  of  flowers  is  collected 
in  a  like  manner,  swallowed,  and  regurgitated  in  the  form 
of  bee-bread  or  food  for  the  larva.  When  wax  is  needed, 
the  bees  gorge  themselves  with  honey  and  hang  suspended 
in  festoons  or  curtains  for  about  twenty-four  hours,  when 
the  wax  is  found  secreted  in  the  form  of  a  little  scale  be- 
tween the  overlapping  rings  of  the  abdomen,  which  spaces 
are  called  wax-pockets.  So  that  when  we  see  bees  hang  in 
clusters  in  other  than  the  swarming  season  we  may  know 
that  they  are  engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  wax. 

13.  Of  the  treatment  of  these  wax-scales  Huber  says  : 
"  The  worker  disengages  it  by  means  of  pincers  on  his  legs, 
and  by  seizing  it  in  his  mouth.     We  remarked  that  with 
its  claws  it  turned  the  wax  in  every  necessary  direction  ; 
that  the  edge  of  the  scale  was  immediately  broken  down, 
and  the  fragments,  having  been  accumulated  in  the  hollow 
of  the  mandibles,  issued  forth  like  a  very  narrow  ribbon, 
impregnated  with  a  frothy  liquid  by  the  tongue.     The 
tongue  assumed  the  most  varied  shapes,  and  performed  the 
most  complicated  operations,  being   sometimes  flattened 
like  a  trowel,  and  at  other  times  pointed  like  a  pencil ; 
and,  after  imbuing  the  whole  substance  of  the  ribbon, 
pushing  it  forward  into  the  mandibles,  where  it  was  drawn 
out  a  second  time,  but  in  an  opposite  direction." 

14.  The  lenses  of  the  bees'  eyes  are  not  adjustable,  and, 
though  they  can  see  accurately  at  great  distances,  they  seem 
blind  to  objects  close  by.     Bees  dart  down  to  the  door  of 
their  hives  with  a  precision  that  is  generally  unerring,  but 
if,  from  any  cause,  they  miss  the  opening,  they  are  obliged 
to  rise  in  the  air  in  order  to  take  another  observation.     If 
bees  hear  at  all,  it  is  only  such  sounds  as  affect  their  own 
welfare.    Their  sense  of  smell  appears  to  be  very  keen  :  the 
presence  of  honey  they  detect  in  the  most  carefully  con- 
cealed places.     The  sense  which  appears  to  be  the  most 
perfect  with  them  is  touch,  which  resides  wholly  in  the 


PYGMY   WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  119 

antennae.  In  the  language  of  Huber,  "the  bee  constructs 
its  comb  in  darkness ;  it  pours  its  honey  into  the  maga- 
zines, feeds  its  young,  judges  of  their  age  and  necessities, 
recognizes  its  queen — all  by  aid  of  its  antennas,  which  are 
much  less  adapted  for  becoming  acquainted  with  objects 
than  our  hands.  Therefore,  shall  we  not  grant  to  this 
sense  modifications  and  perfections  unknown  to  the  touch 
of  man  ?  " 


THE    HUMBLEBEE. 

1.  BURLY,  dozing  humblebee, 
Where  thou  art  is  clime  for  me. 
Let  them  sail  for  Porto  Rique, 
Far-off  heats  through  seas  to  seek  ; 
I  will  follow  thee  alone, 

Thou  animated  torrid  zone  ! 
Zigzag  steerer,  desert  cheerer, 
Let  me  chase  thy  waving  lines  ; 
Keep  me  nearer,  me  thy  hearer, 
Singing  over  shrubs  and  vines. 

2.  Insect  lover  of  the  sun, 
Joy  of  thy  dominion  ! 
Sailer  of  the  atmosphere  ; 
Swimmer  through  the  waves' of  air  ; 
Voyager  of  light  and  noon  ; 
Epicurean  of  June  ; 

Wait,  I  prithee,  till  I  come 
Within  earshot  of  thy  hum — 
All  without  is  martyrdom. 

3.  When  the  south  wind  in  May  days, 
With  a  net  of  shining  haze, 


]20  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

Silvers  the  horizon  wall, 
And,  with  softness  touching  all, 
Tints  the  human  countenance 
With  the  color  of  romance  ; 
And,  infusing  subtle  heats, 
Turns  the  sod  to  violets — 
Thou,  in  sunny  solitudes, 
Rover  of  the  underwoods, 
The  green  silence  doth  displace 
With  thy  mellow,  breezy  bass. 

4.  Hot  midsummer's  petted  crone, 
Sweet  to  me  thy  drowsy  tone 
Tells  of  countless  sunny  hours, 
Long  days,  and  solid  banks  of  flowers 
Of  gulfs  of  sweetness  without  bound 
In  Indian  wildernesses  found  ! 

Of  Syrian  peace,  immortal  leisure, 
Firmest  cheer,  and  bird-like  pleasure. 

5.  Aught  unsavory  or  unclean 
Hath  my  insect  never  seen  ; 
But  violets  and  bilberry-bells, 
Maple-sap  and  daffodels, 

Grass  with  green  flag  half-mast  high5 
Succory  to  match  the  sky, 
Columbine  with  horn  of  honey, 
Scented  fern  and  agrimony, 
Clover,  catchfly,  adder's-tongue, 
And  briar-roses,  dwelt  among  ; 
All  beside  was  unknown  waste, 
All  was  picture  as  he  passed. 

6.  Wiser  far  than  human  seer, 
Yellow-breeched  philosopher ! 


PYGMY   WORKERS  AND  BUILDERS.  121 

Seeing  only  what  is  fair, 
Sipping  only  what  is  sweet, 
Thou  dost  mock  at  fate  and  care, 
Leave  the  chaff  and  take  the  wheat. 
When  the  fierce  northwestern  blast 
Cools  sea  and  land  so  far  and  fast, 
Thou  already  slumberest  deep  ; 
Woe  and  want  thou  canst  outsleep  ; 
Want  and  woe,  which  torture  us, 
Thy  sleep  makes  ridiculous. 

Emerson. 


PART   VI. 
QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS. 


THE    PIT-DIGGER   AND    ITS  VICTIM. 


1.  WHEtf  I  lived  in  a  tent  in  South  Carolina,  I  had  all 
around  me  the  curious  little  holes  of  a  creature  that  feeds 
on  ants,  though  it  is  no  bigger  than  they  are  —  the  ant-lion. 
I  had  read  about  this  little  insect,  as  most  children  have, 
but  I  had  never  before  seen  it,  except  in  its  complete  state, 
when  it  is  a  pretty  lace-winged  fly.     But  the  remarkable 
part  of  its  life  is  passed  in  the  grub  or  larva  state.    Then  it 
is  a  soft,  heavy  little  thing,  with  feeble  legs,  and  nothing 
strong  about  it  but  its  appetite  and  jaws.     But  how  is  it  to 
get  its  living  ?    It  feeds  on  other  insects,  but  as  it  can  not 
chase  them,  it  must  find  a  way  to  bring  them  to  it  ;  just  as 
if  we  should  sit  at  table,  and  the  turkeys  and  chickens 
should  come  flying  into  our  mouths.     This  is  the  way. 

2.  The  ant-lion  chooses  a  sandy  place,  and  then  crawls 
round  in  a  circle  two  or  three  inches  in  diameter.     Then  it 
makes  another  round  inside  of  the  first  a  little  deeper  and 
jerks  the  sand  outward  with  its  head.     Then  it  makes  an 
inner  circle  deeper  still,  and  so  on,  always  scooping  up  the 
sand  and  throwing  it  out,  until  at  last  it  has  made  a  regular 
little  pitfall,  shaped  like  a  cone,  and  then  it  lies  at  the  bot- 
tom with  its  jaws  and  forceps  just  sticking  out  of  the  sand, 
waiting  for  dinner  to  come. 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  123 

3.  Dinner  comes  by  and  by  in  the  shape  of  some  little 
ant,  roaming  round  for  its  own  dinner,  and  attracted  by 
this  queer  little  pit.     Almost  all  animals  have  some  curi- 
osity, and  so  the  ant  looks  over  the  edge.     His  feet  slip  in 
the  soft  sand,  the  more  he  struggles  the  faster  he  slips  down, 
and  the  ant-lion,  wriggling  up  half-way  to  meet  him,  soon 
has  him  in  his  strong  jaws,  that  never  let  go.    In  the  strug- 
gle the  sand  is  thrown  about,  and  the  pitfall  is  often  so  de- 
stroyed that  it  is  easier  to  make  a  new  one  than  to  repair 
the  old. 

4.  I  have  seen  a  hundred  of  these  tiny  burrows  beside 
each  other  in  the  woods,  and  have  often  put  into  them  little 
pieces  of  stick  or  straw,  that  I  might  see  how  easily  these 
obstructions  slid  down,  and  how  eagerly  the  little  ant-lion 
seized  upon  them.     It  seemed  a  selfish  and  lonely  way  of 
getting  one's  food,  besides  the  treacherousness  of  it.     For  I 
never  saw  two  ant-lions  in  the  same  dining-room,  and  you 
can  not  have  as  much  sympathy  for  them  as  for  those  who 
are  collecting  food  to  keep  their  families  from  starving.    At 
any  rate,  it  shows  that  if  ants  have  sharp  wits,  they  are 
needed  to  resist  such  very  intelligent  enemies. 

T.  W.  Higgimon. 


HOW    MOSQUITOES    MANAGE. 

1.  THE  following  account  of  the  mosqfuito  is  condensed 
from  Keaumur,  the  distinguished  French  naturalist,  and  is 
mostly  in  his  own  language  : 

2.  The  mosquito  is   our  declared  enemy,  and  a  very 
troublesome  enemy  it  is.     However,  it  is  well  to  make  its 
acquaintance  ;  for,  if  we  pay  a  little  attention,  we  shall  be 
forced  to  admire  it,  and  even  to  admire  the  instrument 
with  which  it  wounds  us.     Besides  which,  throughout  the 
whole  course  of  its  life,  it  offers  most  interesting  matter  of 


124:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

investigation  to  those  who  are  curious  to  know  the  wonders 
of  nature.  During  a  period  in  its  life  the  observer,  forget- 
ting it  will  at  some  time  annoy  him,  feels  the  greatest  in- 
terest in  its  life-history. 

3.  The  body  of  the  mosquito  is  long  and  cylindrical. 
When  in  a  state  of  repose,  one  wing  is  crossed  over  the 
other.     The  eyes  are  so  large  as  to  cover  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  head.     The  instrument  which  it  uses  for  punctur- 
ing the  skin,  and  which  is  called  the  trunk,  is  well  worthy 
of  attention.    Under  the  microscope  the  trunk  appears  to  be 
straight  and  cylindrical,  terminating  in  a  small  knob  at  the 
end.     This  is  only  the  case,  which  opens  and  allows  the 
stings,  which  are  six  in  number,  to  come  in  play.     These 
stings  are  exceedingly  minute,  pointed,  and  are  used  very 
much  like  a  surgeon's  lancet.     This  little  instrument  in 
itself  would  scarcely  be  felt,  but  the  sting  is  accompanied 
by  the  emission  of  a  fluid,  which  causes  the  irritation  which 
we  know  so  well. 

4.  The  mosquito  is  not  always  in  the  form  of  a  winged 
insect  greedy  for  our  blood.     After  its  brief  but  very  active 
life  of  from  two  to  three  weeks  the  female  lays  its  eggs  and 
dies.     These  eggs  are  in  clusters,  which  when  magnified 
appear  like  a  fragment  of  honey-comb,  with  from  fifty  to 
one  hundred  and  fifty  cells.     They  are  deposited  in  the 
water,  or  as  close  to  it  as  possible.     In  wet  seasons  the 
water  rises  and  floats  the  eggs,  producing  an  abundant  har- 
vest ;  but  in  dry  seasons  many  fail  to  reach  the  water,  and 
so  perish. 

5.  When  first  hatched  in  the  water,  they  are  very  small, 
and  remarkably  active.     They  get  all  the  food  necessary 
for  their  sustenance  from  the  water,  and  they  seem  to  be 
incessantly  in  the  search  of  it.     While  in  the  larva  state, 
in  the  course  of  two  or  three  weeks,  they  change  their  skin 
three  times,  each  change  being  preceded  by  a  period  of 
repose,  and  succeeded  by  one  of  activity  and  voracity. 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS. 


125 


6.  When  it  throws  off  its  skin  for  the  fourth  time,  it 
changes  its  shape  and  condition,  and  passes  into  the  pupa 
state.  Its  body  is  shortened  and  rounded,  presenting  a 
much  plumper  appearance.  It  has  lost  the  little  fan-like 


Mosquitoes. 

membrane  which  the  larva  possessed,  but  is  still  able  to 
swim  by  bending  its  body  and  straightening  it  again. 
While  in  this  state  it  does  not  eat,  and  has  no  digestive 
apparatus.  Its  outside  covering  is  a  kind  of  sack,  within 


126  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

which  the  perfect  insect  develops  itself  in  the  course  of 
two  or  three  days.  While  in  the  water  the  larva  and  pupa 
are  both  familiarly  known  as  wigglers. 

7.  When  about  to  undergo  its  last  change,  the  pupa 
lies  extended  on  the  surface  of  the  water  with  its  thorax  a 
little  raised.     In  a  moment  the  skin  splits,  beginning  at 
the  head  and  extending  along  the  back.     As  soon  as  it  is 
enlarged — and  to  do  so  sufficiently  is  but  the  work  of  a 
moment — the   forepart   of  the   perfect  insect  is  not  long 
in  showing  itself ;  and  soon  afterward  the  head  appears, 
rising  above  the  opening.     But  this  moment,  and  those 
that  follow,  until  the  mosquito  has  entirely  left  its  cover- 
ing, are  most  critical,  and  when  it  is  exposed  to  great 
danger.     This  insect,  which  lately  lived  in  the  water,  is 
suddenly  in  a  position  in  which  it  has  nothing  to  fear  so 
much  as  the  water.     If  it  were  upset  on  the  water,  and  the 
water  were  to  touch  its  thorax  or  body,  it  would  be  fatal. 

8.  This  is  the  way  in  which  it  acts  in  this  critical  po- 
sition :   As  soon  as  it  has  got  out  its  head  and  thorax,  it 
lifts  them  as  high  as  it  is  able  above  the  opening  through 
which  they  had  emerged,  and  then  draws  the  posterior 
part  of  the  body  toward   the   same  opening ;   or,  rather, 
that  part  pushes  itself  forward  by  contracting  a  little,  and 
then  lengthening  again,  the  roughness  of  the  covering  from 
which  it  desires  to  extricate  itself  serving  as  an  assistance. 

9.  A  large  portion  of  the  mosquito  is  thus  uncovered, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  head  is  advanced  farther  to- 
ward the  anterior  end  of  the  covering  ;  but  as  it  advances 
in  this  direction  it  rises  more  and  more,  both  ends  of  the 
sheath  thus  becoming  quite  empty.      The  sheath  is  now 
a  kind  of  boat,  into  which  the  water  does  not  enter ;  and 
it  would  be  fatal  if  it  did.     Large  boats,  which  pass  under 
bridges,  have  masts  which  can  be  lowered  ;  as  soon  as  the 
boat  has  passed  the  bridge,  the  mast  is  hoisted  up  by  de- 
grees until  it  is  vertical.     The  mosquito  rises  until  it  be- 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  127 

comes  the  mast  of  its  own  little  boat,  and  a  vertical  mast 
also. 

10.  The  forepart  of  the  boat  is  much  more  loaded  than 
the  other,  but  it  is  also  much  broader.     It  is  difficult  to 
imagine  how  the  insect  is  able  to  put  itself  in  such  a  sin- 
gular, though  for  it  necessary,  position,  and  how  it  can 
keep  it.     Any  one  who  observes  how  deep  the  forepart  of 
the  boat  is,  and  how  near  the  edges  of  its  sides  are  to  the 
water,  forgets,  for  the  time  being,  that  the  mosquito  is  an 
insect  that  he  would  willingly  destroy  at  other  times.     One 
feels  uneasy  for  its  fate ;  and  the  more  so  if  the  wind  happens 
to  arise  so  as  to  disturb  the  surface  of  the  water.     But  one 
sees  with  pleasure  that  there  is  air  enough  to  carry  the 
mosquito  along  quickly  ;  it  is  carried  from  side  to  side  ;  it 
makes  voyages  in  the  boat  in  which  it  is  borne.    The  boat, 
as  yet,  has  only  a  mast,  because  its  wings  and  legs  are  fixed 
close  to  its  body,  but  in  proportion  it  is  a  larger  sail  than 
one  would  dare  to  put  on  a  real  vessel ;  one  can  not  help 
fearing  that  the  little  boat  will  capsize.     Should  the  boat 
capsize,  there  is  no  chance  for  the  mosquito.     I  have  seen 
the  water  covered  with  mosquitoes  which  had  perished  as 
soon  as  they  were  born.      Happily,  all  dangers  may  be 
passed  over  in  a  minute. 

11.  The  mosquito,  after  raising  itself  perpendicularly, 
draws  its  two  front  legs  from  the  sheath  and  brings  them 
forward,  and  then  draws  out  the  two  next.     It  now  no 
longer  tries  to  maintain  its  erect  position,  but  leans  to- 
ward the  water,  gets  near  it,  and  places  its  feet  upon  it ; 
the  water  is  sufficiently  firm  and  solid  to  support  the  in- 
sect's body.     As  soon  as  it  is  thus  in  the  water  it  is  safe  ; 
its  wings  are  unfolded  and  dried,  which  is  done  sooner  than 
it  takes  to  tell  it,  and  it  then  is  in  a  condition  to  fly  away 
and  commence  experiments  on  the  observer. 

Reaumur. 


128  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


PLANT-EATING   AND   OMNIVOROUS   ANTS. 

1.  A:NT  communities  everywhere  have  the  same  general 
characteristics  in  regard  to  orderly  government,  to  the  con- 
struction of  communal  habitations,  to  the  care  of  the  young, 
to  industry,  and  to  the  division  of  labor  ;  but  it  is  in  trop- 
ical regions  only  that  they  exhibit  some  of  their  most  re- 
markable peculiarities.     The  plant-eating  ant  is  the  pest  of 
the  agriculturist,  but  the  omnivorous  ants  are  such  fearful 
scourges  that  they  frequently  render  large  sections  of  coun- 
try entirely  uninhabitable  by  man.     In  Africa  the  owners 
of  large  and  nourishing  plantations  have  been  driven  away 
by  these  ants,  and  upon  the  banks  of  the  Parana,  in  Brazil, 
a  large  territory  has  been  almost  transformed  into  a  desert. 

2.  In  South  America,  the  sauba,  or  leaf-cutting  ants, 
are  among  the  pests  which  make  regular  farming  almost 
impossible.    These  ants  build  nests  about  two  feet  high  and 
often  forty  feet  in  diameter.    The  interiors  are  divided  into 
galleries,  some  of  which  extend  deep  into  the  ground.     It 
is  said  that  these  ants  always  build  where  they  can  have  di- 
rect access  to  water,  and  in  one  instance  it  was  found  that 
they  had  constructed  a  well  twelve  inches  in  diameter  and 
thirty  feet  deep.     These  ants  ascend  trees  and  plants  in 
immense  swarms,  taking  possession  of  the  entire  plant. 
Then  each  ant  cuts  a  circular  piece  from  a  leaf,  and,  de- 
scending, bears  it  away  to  the  nest.     In  this  way  the  tree  is 
soon  denuded  of  its  leaves,  and  the  vast  army  of  ants,  follow- 
ing the  same  route,  form  regular  beaten  paths.     "While  en- 
gaged in  this  work  their  columns  are  said  to  look  like  a 
multitude  of  animated  leaves  on  a  march. 

3.  The  leaves  are  stored  up  in  chambers  constructed  for 
that  purpose,  and  for  a  long  time  the  object  of  this  accumu- 
lation was  a  matter  of  conjecture.    Late  investigations,  how- 
ever, have  shown  that  in  the  moist  and  warm  atmosphere 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  129 

of  the  nests  the  leaves  ferment  and  produce  minute  fungi, 
upon  which  the  larva  of  the  ants  feed.  In  eifecting  this 
object  they  seem  to  have  long  anticipated  man  in  the  con- 
struction of  under-ground  beds  for  the  production  of  mush- 
rooms and  truffles.  To  a  large  extent  these  insects  decide 
upon  the  kind  of  vegetation  which  shall  grow  in  the  regions 
which  they  inhabit.  Only  the  kinds  which  the  ants  do  not 
use  can  survive.  The  farm  crop  to  which  they  take  a  fancy 
is  destroyed  at  once. 

4.  One  of  the  most  noted  of  the  destructive  insect  com- 
munities are  the  termites,  which,  though  scientifically  placed 
in  another  genus,  are  usually  ranked  among  the  ants,  and 
are  popularly  known  as  white  ants.     In  organization  the 
termites  resemble  the  bees,  each  community  owing  alle- 
giance to  a  single  queen,  and  otherwise  divided  into  males 
or  drones  and  workers.     Unlike  the  bees,  they  have  a  dis- 
tinct class  of  soldiers  to  preserve  order  and  to  defend  the 
home.     The  queen  grows  to  such  monstrous  size  that  she 
can  not  move,  but  devotes  herself  to  the  business  of  laying 
eggs,  which  she  does  at  the  rate  of  eighty  thousand  per 
day. 

5.  Some  varieties  of  these  termites  build  dwellings  often 
twenty  feet   high,    pyramidal   in   shape,    and   frequently 
adorned  with  turrets.     These  structures  are  so  solid  that 
the  wild  cattle  often  climb  upon  them  without  crushing 
their  walls.    The  interiors  are  divided  into  chambers,  with 
galleries,  that  often  extend  many  feet  under  ground.    A  vil- 
lage consisting  of  the  dwellings  of  the  termites  presents  a 
very  remarkable  appearance,  and  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
believe  that  it  is  the  work   of  so  diminutive  an  insect. 
Were  man  to  build  as  high  proportionally,  his  structures 
would  be  five  times  as  high  as  the  pyramids  of  Egypt. 

6.  Another  variety  of  termites  do  not  build  for  them- 
selves, but  take  possession  of  human  habitations.     From 
their   galleries   under  ground   they  make   their   way  into 


130 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


dwellings  in  myriads.  They  do  not  appear  to  the  sight, 
but  eat  their  way  into  the  wood  through  tiny  holes  which 
would  be  scarcely  observable  even  by  minute  investigation. 
Once  inside,  they  literally  eat  up  the  whole  woody  fiber, 
leaving  nothing  but  a  thin  outside  shell.  The  posts,  the 


Warrior  Termites. 

beams,  the  rafters  of  the  houses,  and  every  wooden  thing 
connected  with  them,  share  the  same  fate.  To  the  eye 
everything  seems  right,  but  suddenly  the  whole  collapses 
like  the  Deacon's  one  -  horse  shay,  nothing  remaining  but 
dust,  and  the  uneaten  wafer-like  surface  of  the  wood. 

7.  In  Sierra  Leone,  after  a  short  absence  from  home, 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  131 

the  owner  will  return  and  find  only  the  ghosts  of  furniture 
remaining,  which  disappear  at  the  first  rude  touch.  A 
whole  staircase  is  destroyed  in  two  weeks,  and  tables,  chairs, 
and  book-cases  in  much  less  time.  In  Southern  France, 
where  the  termites  have  lately  made  their  appearance,  pa- 
pers and  clothing  have  to  be  protected  in  metal  safes  as 
against  burglars.  On  one  occasion  the  wooden  supports  of 
a  dining-room  were  eaten  through,  and  the  flooring  gave 
way  while  a  party  were  dining,  much  to  the  derangement 
of  the  dinner  and  to  the  consternation  of  the  host  and 
guests. 

8.  The  fire-ants  of  the  Amazon,  another  omnivorous 
tribe,  are  even  a  worse  scourge  than  the  termites.     Mr. 
Bates,  the  naturalist,  says  :  "The  village  of  Aveyros  may 
be  called  the  head-quarters  of  the  fire-ant,  which  may  be 
fittingly  termed  the  scourge  of  this  fine  river.     It  is  found 
only  in  sandy  soil  and  in  open  places,  and  seems  to  thrive 
most  in  the  neighborhood  of  houses  and  weedy  villages  ;  it 
does  not  make  its  home  in  the  shades  of  the  forest.     Avey- 
ros was  deserted  a  few  years  before  my  visit  on  account  of 
this  little  tormentor,  and  the  inhabitants  had  only  recently 
returned  to  their  houses,  thinking  its  numbers  had  de- 
creased.    It  is  a  small  species,  not  greatly  differing  from 
the  red  ant  of  our  own  country,  except  that  the  pain  and 
irritation  caused  by  its  sting  are  much  greater. 

9.  "The  soil  of  the  whole  village  is  undermined  by 
them  ;  the  ground  is  perforated  with  the,  entrances  to  their 
subterranean  galleries,  and  a  little  sandy  dome  shows  itself 
here  and  there,  where  the  insects  bring  their  young  to  re- 
ceive warmth  near  the  surface.     The  houses  are  overrun 
with  them  ;  they  dispute  every  fragment  of  food  with  the 
inhabitants,  and  destroy  clothing  for  the  sake  of  the  starch. 
All  eatables  are  obliged  to  be  suspended  in  baskets  from  the 
rafters,  and  the  cords  well  soaked  in  copaiba-balsam,  which 
is  the  only  means  known  to  prevent  them  from  climbing. 


132  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

10.  "  They  seem  to  attack  persons  out  of  sheer  malice. 
If  we  stood  a  few  moments  in  the  street,  even  at  a  distance 
from  their  nests,  we  were  sure  to  be  overrun  with  them,  and 
severely  punished,  for  the  moment  an  ant  touched  the  skin 
he  secured  himself  with  his  jaws,  doubled  in  his  tail,  and 
stung  with  all  his  might.  When  we  were  seated  on  chairs 
in  the  evenings,  in  front  of  the  house,  to  enjoy  a  chat  with 
our  neighbors,  we  had  stools  to  support  our  feet,  the  legs  of 
which,  as  well  as  those  of  the  chairs,  were  well  anointed 
with  the  balsam.  The  cords  of  hammocks  were  obliged  to 
be  smeared  in  the  same  way,  to  prevent  the  ants  from  pay- 
ing sleepers  a  visit." 


CARNIVOROUS  AND   AGRICULTURAL  ANTS. 

1.  Du  CHAILLU  has  given  an  admirable  description  of 
the  driver  or  army  ant  of  tropical  Africa.     These  ants  col- 
lect in  vast  armies  and  march  off  together  in  search  of  food. 
They  belong  to  the  true  carnivora,  and  do  no  injury  to 
vegetation.     The  marching  column  is  usually  about  two 
inches  wide,  and  it  often  is  several  miles  in  length.     They 
shun  the  glare  of  the  day,  and  take  up  their  line  of  travel  by 
night,  or  in  the  dense  shade  of  the  woods.     When  possible, 
they  form  covered  passage-ways,  as  through  hollow  logs 
and  under  the  fallen  leaves,  and  through  these  the  entire 
army  moves.      They   attack  every  form   of  animal  life. 
When  they  strike  a  decayed  log,  or  a  heap  of  vegetable 
refuse,  they  at  once  spread  out  and  enter  every  crevice, 
so  that  the  object  appears  to  be  a  living  mass  of  ants  inside 
and  out.    They  find  and  instantly  devour  every  insect,  grub, 
and  larva  which  may  exist,  and  then  they  fall  into  line  and 
resume  their  march. 

2.  Lions,  tigers,  and  elephants  flee  at  their  approach, 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  133 

and  woe  to  any  crippled  animal  that  is  unable  to  get  out  of 
their  way;  he  is  doomed,  and  the  ants  never  leave  him 
until  the  very  marrow  is  picked  out  of  his  bones.  The 
carcass  of  an  elephant  or  a  rhinoceros  would  stay  the 
march  but  a  few  hours.  The  huge  python,  lying  dor- 
mant after  he  has  gorged  himself,  often  falls  a  prey  to 
these  marching  hordes  and  is  literally  eaten  up  alive. 
They  destroy  vast  quantities  of  the  eggs  of  serpents  and 
crocodiles,  and  so  help  man  by  keeping  down  the  numbers 
of  these  obnoxious  reptiles. 

3.  Their  visit  to  a  human  domicile  is  both  welcomed 
and  dreaded.      Their  presence   is  first  made  known  by 
squeakings  and  an  unusual  commotion  among  the  vari- 
ous pests  which  infest  such  habitations.     The  young  and 
the  old  now  lay  hands  on  their  household  gods  and  flee  for 
their  lives,  happy  if  they  escape  from  personal  molestation 
from  the  advanced  guards  of  the  grand  army.     The  ants 
enter  into  possession,  and  the  work  of  purgation  is  soon 
finished.     Rats,  mice,  and  roaches  are  tracked  to  their 
most  secret  lairs  and  ruthlessly  devoured  ;  nor  do  flees  and 
other  such  small  deer  escape.     The  ants  are  literally  every- 
where ;  and,  when  they  leave,  the  house  is  swept  of  every 
living  thing,  a  condition  which,  on  the  whole,  amply  pays 
for  the  brief  inconvenience  to  which  the  family  has  been 
subjected.      In    some   cases    sick   and   aged   people   have 
been  abandoned  in  the  hasty  flight  of  the  family,  and  have 
shared  the  fate  of  all  animal  life  which, comes  in  the  way 
of  these  ants. 

4.  The   ecitons,  or  foraging   ants  of  tropical  Ameri- 
ca, in  habits  are  nearly  allied  to  the  drivers.     Of  these 
Mr.  Belt,  the  naturalist  of  Nicaragua,  says  :  "  The  mov- 
ing   columns    of   ecitons    are    composed    almost   entirely 
of  workers  of  different  sizes,  but,  at  intervals  of  two  or 
three  yards,  there  are  larger  and  lighter-colored  individ- 
uals that  often  stop  and  sometimes  run  a  little  backward, 


134  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

stopping  and  touching  some  of  the  ants  with  their  an- 
tennae. .  They  look  like  officers  giving  orders  and  direct- 
ing the  march  of  the  column. 

5.  "  My  attention  was  generally  first  called  to  them  by 
the  twittering  of  some  small  birds  belonging  to  different 
species.     On  approaching,  a  dense  body  of  the  ants,  three 
or  four  yards  wide,  and  so  numerous  as  to  blacken  the 
ground,  would  be  seen  moving  rapidly  in  one  direction, 
examining  every  cranny  and  underneath  every  fallen  leaf. 
On  the  flanks,  and  in  advance  of  the  main  body,  smaller 
columns  would  be  pushed  out.      These  smaller  columns 
would  generally  first  flush  the  cockroaches,  grasshoppers, 
and  spiders.     The  pursued  insects  would  rapidly  make  off, 
but  many,  in  their  confusion   and  terror,  would   bound 
right  into  the  midst  of  the  main  body  of  ants.     At  first, 
the  grasshopper,  when  it  found  itself  in  the  midst  of  its 
enemies,  would  give  vigorous  leaps,  with  perhaps  two  or 
three  of  the  ants  clinging  to  its  legs.     Then  it  would  stop 
a  moment  to  rest,  and  that  moment  would  be  fatal,  for  the 
tiny  foes  would  swarm  over  the  prey,  and,  after  a  few  more 
ineffectual  struggles,  it  would  succumb  to  its  fate,  and 
soon  be  bitten  to  pieces  and  carried  off  to  the  rear. 

6.  "The  greatest  catch  of  the  ants  was,  however,  when 
they  got  among  some  fallen  brushwood.     The  cockroaches, 
spiders,  and  other  insects,  instead  of  running  right  away, 
would  ascend  the  fallen  branches  and  remain  there,  while 
the  host  of  ants  were  occupying  all  the  ground  beneath. 
By  and  by,  up  would  come  some  of  the  ants,  following 
every  branch,  and  driving  before  them  their  prey  to  the 
ends  of  the  small  twigs,  where  nothing  remained  for  them 
but  to  leap,  and  they  would  alight  in  the  very  throng  of 
their  foes,  with  the  result  of  being  certainly  caught  and 
pulled  to  pieces. 

7.  "The  ants  send  off  exploring  parties  up  the  trees, 
which  hunt  for  nests  of  wasps,  bees,  and  probably  birds. 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  135 

If  they  find  any,  they  soon  communicate  the  intelligence 
to  the  army  below,  and  a  column  is  sent  up  immediately  to 
take  possession  of  the  prize.  I  have  seen  them  pulling  out 
the  larvae  and  pupae  from  the  cells  of  a  large  wasps'  nest, 
while  the  wasps  hovered  about,  powerless,  before  the  mul- 
titude of  the  invaders,  to  render  any  protection  to  their 
young. 

8.  "  One  day,  when  watching  a  small  column  of  these 
ants,  I  placed  a  little  stone  on  one  of  them  to  secure  it. 
The  next  that  approached,  as  soon  as  it  discovered  its  situ- 
ation, ran  backward  in  an  agitated  manner,  and  soon  com- 
municated the  intelligence  to  the  others.     They  rushed  to 
the  rescue  :  some  bit  at  the  stone  and  tried  to  move  it ; 
others  seized  the  prisoner  by  the  legs,  and  tugged  with 
such  force  that  I  thought  the  legs  would  be  pulled  off ; 
but  they  persevered  until  they  got  the  captive  free.     I  next 
covered  one  up  with  a  piece  of  clay,  leaving  only  the  ends 
of  the  antennae  projecting.     It  was  soon  discovered  by  its 
fellows,  who  set  to  work  immediately,  and,  by  biting  off 
pieces  of  the  clay,  soon  liberated  it. 

9.  "Another  time  I  found  a  very  few  of  them  passing 
along  at  intervals.     I  confined  one  of  these  under  a  little 
piece  of  clay,  with  his  head  projecting.    Several  ants  passed 
it,  but  at  last  one  discovered  it,  and  tried  to  pull  it  up,  but 
it  could  not.     It  immediately  set  off  at  a  great  rate,  and  I 
thought  it  had  deserted  its  comrade  ;  but  it  had  only  gone 
for  assistance,  for  in  a  short  time  about,  a  dozen  ants  came 
hurrying  up,  evidently  fully  informed  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  case,  for  they  made  directly  for  their  imprisoned 
comrade,  and   soon  set  him  free.     The   excitement  and 
ardor  with  which  they  carried  on  their  exertions  for  the 
rescue  could  not  have  been  greater  if  they  had  been  human 
beings." 

10.  Of  all  these  tribes,  however,  the  claim  for  greatest 
intelligence  must  be  accorded  to  the  agricultural  ants  of 


136  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

western  Texas.  This  species,  which  has  been  carefully 
studied  by  Dr.  Lincecum  for  the  space  of  twelve  years,  is, 
save  man,  the  only  creature  which  does  not  depend  for  its 
sustenance  on  the  products  of  the  chase  or  the  spontaneous 
fruits  of  the  earth.  As  soon  as  a  colony  of  these  ants  have 
become  sufficiently  numerous  they  clear  a  tract  of  ground, 
some  four  or  five  feet  in  width,  around  their  city.  In  this 
plot  all  existing  plants  are  eradicated,  all  stones  and  rub- 
bish removed,  and  a  peculiar  species  of  grass  is  sown,  the 
seeds  of  which  resemble  very  minute  grains  of  rice.  The 
field — for  go  we  must  call  it — is  carefully  tended  by  the 
ants,  kept  free  from  weeds,  and  guarded  against  marauding 
insects.  When  mature,  the  crop  is  reaped,  and  the  seeds 
are  carried  into  the  nest.  If  they  are  found  to  be  too 
damp,  they  are  carefully  carried  out,  laid  in  the  sunshine 
till  sufficiently  dry,  and  then  housed  again. 

11.  This  formation  of  a  plot  of  cleared  land  is  a  critical 
point  in  the  career  of  a  young  community.    Any  older  and 
larger  city  which  may  lie  within  some  fifty  or  sixty  paces 
looks  upon  the  step  as  a  cause  of  war,  and  at  once  marches 
its  armies  to  the  attack.     After  a  combat  ensues,  which 
may  be  prolonged  for  days,  Providence  declares  in  favor 
of  the  largest  battalions,  and  the  less  numerous  community 
is  exterminated,  fighting  literally  to  the  last  ant.     When  a 
colony  is  unmolested,  it  increases  rapidly  in  population, 
and  undertakes  to  lay  out  roads  :  one  of  these,  from  two 
to  three  inches  in  width,  has  been  traced  to  one  hundred 
yards  from  the  city.     These  ants  are  not  very  carnivorous, 
nor  do  they  damage  the  crops  of  the  neighboring  farmers. 

12.  Persons  who  intrude  upon  their  premises  are  bitten 
with  great  zeal,  but  otherwise  the  species  may  be  regarded 
as  harmless.    One  creature  alone  they  seem  to  tolerate  near 
them,  and  that  is  the  small,  black  "erratic  ant,"  which 
Dr.  Lincecum  conjectures  may  be  of  some  use  to  them,  and 
which  is  therefore  allowed  to  build  its  small  cities  in  their 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  137 

immediate  neighborhood.  If  it  becomes  too  numerous, 
however,  it  is  got  rid  of  not  by  open  war,  but  by  a  course 
of  systematic,  and  yet  apparently  unintentional,  annoy- 
ance. The  agriculturists  suddenly  find  it  necessary  to  ex- 
tend their  field  and  enlarge  the  base  of  their  city.  In 
carrying  out  these  alterations  they  literally  bury  the  nests 
of  their  neighbors  under  heaps  of  the  small  pellets  of  soil 
thrown  up  by  the  prairie  earth-worms,  and  continue  this 
process  until  the  erratic  ants,  in  sheer  despair,  remove  to  a 
quieter  spot. 


THE    PRAYING    MANTIS. 

1.  SPECIES  of  insects  known  as  mantids  belong  to  the 
order   Orthoptera,  which  includes  crickets,  grasshoppers, 
cockroaches,  locusts,  etc.     The  following  figure  illustrates 
the  appearance  of  one  of  these.     They  are  of  bright,  varie- 
gated colors,  and  are  sometimes  quite  large,  even  three  or 
four  inches  in  length.     The  mantis  lays  its  eggs  at  the  end 
of  summer,  in  rounded,  fragile  shells,  which  it  attaches  to 
the  branches  of  trees,  and  which  do  not  hatch  till  the  fol- 
lowing summer.     It  differs  in  locomotion  from  its  orthop- 
terous  relatives,  which  travel  by  jumps,  while  the  mantis 
crawls  so  slowly  that  its  progress  can  only  be  appreciated 
by  careful  and  prolonged  watching.      This  trait  is  con- 
nected with  another  character  by  which  .the  mantis  differs 
from  the  foregoing  groups,  for,  while  they  are  vegetarians, 
this  insect  is  carnivorous,  and  its  insidious  movements  are 
part  of  the  policy  by  which  it  captures  the  various  creat- 
ures upon  which  it  feeds. 

2.  But  the  mantis  is  not  only  a  carnivore  which  lives 
by  killing  and  devouring  other  insects,  it  is  also  a  creature 
of  the  most  quarrelsome  disposition  ;  in  fact,  it  is  a  fero- 
cious cannibal.    If  two  of  these  insects  be  shut  up  together, 


138 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


they  engage  in  a  desperate  combat ;  they  deal  each  other 
blows  with  their  front  legs,  and  do  not  leave  off  fighting 
until  the  stronger  has  succeeded  in  eating  off  the  other's 
head.  From  their  very  birth  the  larvae  attack  each  other. 
In  their  contests,  the  male,  being  smaller  than  the  female, 


The  Praying  Mantis. 

is  often  the  victim.  This  pugnacity  of  the  mantis  is  the 
source  of  amusement  to  children  in  China.  Two  mantids 
are  shut  up  together  in  a  bamboo  cage,  and  the  young 
heathen  view  with  delight  the  inevitable  battle,  and  the 
resulting  cannibal  feast. 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  .    139 

3.  And  yet,  while  its  inoffensive  orthopterous  brethren 
have  got  but  little  credit  for  their  virtues,  and  are  gener- 
ally reviled  as  nuisances,  this  atrocious  little  savage  has 
had  the  fortune  to  acquire  a  peculiar  reputation  for  wis- 
dom and  saintliness.     For  thousands  of  years,  and  in  all 
parts  of  the  world,  it  has  borne  this  character.     The  cause 
has  been  that  it  habitually  assumes  an  attitude  that  appears 
devotional,  and  it  was  supposed  to  spend  a  large  portion  of 
its  life  in  prayer.     Settled  on  the  ground,  it  raises  its  head 
and  thorax,  clasps  together  the  joints  of  its  front  legs  (see 
cut),  and  raises  them  as  if  in  supplication,  and  remains  in 
this  posture  for  hours  together. 

4.  A  naturalist,  who  has  carefully  studied  his  habits,  ob- 
serves :   "  He  is  a  very  remarkable  fellow,  powerful  alike 
upon  wing  or  leg,  but  much  given  to  fits  of  lethargy  and 
brown-study.     His  traditional  religious  exercise,  indeed,  is 
simply  lying  in  wait  for  what  the  gods  may  send  him  in 
the  way  of  food.     He  fixes  himself,  as  if  in  rapt  contem- 
plation,  upon  some  convenient  stalk  or  leaf,  and  then 
bends  up  his  chest  and  shoulders  into  an  almost  erect  po- 
sition, pressing  together  his  arms  in  front,  and  looking 
well  out  before  him,  with  the  palpi  of  his  lips  slightly 
vibrating.     In  this  expectant  mood  he  allows  himself  to 
be  coaxed  with  the  finger,  merely  staggering  back  a  pace 
or  two,  and  fixing  his  goggle-eyes  upon  the  biped  who 
vouchsafes  this  personal  attention.      If  he  lights  upon  a 
perpendicular  window  or  wall  when  in  this  vein  of  "  re- 
ligious" ecstasy,  he  seems  to  remain  for  hours  together 
without  motion,  but  all  the  while  he  mounts  imperceptibly 
up  and  up  until  he  reaches  the  ceiling  or  roof  which  limits 
the  chamber  in  the  upward  direction. 

5.  "  The  closest  watching  does  not  show  how  this  most 
gradual  of  all  climbings  is  accomplished.     Not  a  limb  can 
be  seen  to  move,  yet  up,  minute  after  minute,  he  glides. 
It  is  while  he  is  in  these  fits  of  expectant  ecstasy  that  he 


140  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

seizes  his  prey.  He  is  essentially  a  carnivorous  feeder,  and 
pounces  stealthily  upon  any  unwary  insect  that  settles 
within  convenient  reach,  seizing  the  victim  between  his 
upraised  legs,  and  fixing  it  there  between  the  row  of 
spikelets  with  which  these  prehensile  limbs  are  fringed. 
After  a  deliberate  inspection  of  the  morsel  held  in  this 
position,  he  goes  to  work  with  his  jaws." 

Science  Monthly. 


THE    KATYDID. 

1.  I  LOVE  to  hear  thine  earnest  voice, 

Wherever  thou  art  hid, 
Thou  testy  little  dogmatist, 

Thou  pretty  katydid  ! 
Thou  mindest  me  of  gentlefolks — 

Old  gentlefolks  are  they — 
Thou  say'st  an  undisputed  thing 

In  such  a  solemn  way. 

2.  Thou  art  a  female  katydid, 

I  know  it  by  the  trill 
That  quivers  through  thy  piercing  notes, 

So  petulant  and  shrill. 
I  think  there  is  a  knot  of  you 

Beneath  the  hollow  tree — 
A  knot  of  spinster  katydids — 

Do  katydids  drink  tea  ? 

3.  Dear  me  !  I'll  tell  you  all  about 

My  fuss  with  little  Jane, 
And  Ann,  with  whom  I  used  to  walk 
So  often  down  the  lane  ; 


QUEER  LITTLE  FOLKS.  141 

And  all  that  tore  their  hairs  of  black, 

Or  wet  their  eyes  of  blue. 
Pray  tell  me,  sweetest  katydid, 

What  did  poor  Katy  do  ? 

4.  Ah,  no  !  the  living  oak  shall  crash, 

That  stood  for  ages  still, 
The  rock  shall  rend  its  mossy  base, 

And  thunder  down  the  hill, 
Before  the  little  katydid 

Shall  add  one  word,  to  tell 
The  mystic  story  of  the  maid 

Whose  name  she  knows  so  well. 

5.  Peace  to  the  ever-murmuring  race  ! 

And  when  the  latest  one 
Shall  fold  in  death  her  feeble  wings 

Beneath  the  autumn  sun, 
Then  shall  she  raise  her  fainting  voice 

And  lift  her  drooping  lid, 
And  then  the  child  of  future  years 

Shall  hear  what  Katy  did. 

Holmes, 


PART  VII. 
CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST. 


THE    MONARCH    OF  THE    SWAMP. 

1.  IN"  the  old,  old  time  geologists  tell  us  that  the  earth 
was  inhabited  by  monstrous  beasts,  birds,  and  reptiles, 
compared  with  which  their   present   representatives  are 
mere  pygmies.     Prominent  among  these  were  many  spe- 
cies of  saurians,  reptiles  with  enormous  bodies,  short  legs, 
huge  jaws,  and  immense  tails,  who  found  the  earth  a  con- 
genial abiding-place  before  the  lands  and  the  waters  were 
separated,  and  who  evidently  lorded  it  over  their  amphibious 
companions.     They  could   swim  in   the  water,  or  paddle 
through  the  mud,  and  even  learned  to  rest  upon  the  dry 
land  for  a  brief  space  when  it  appeared.     The  alligators 
are  the  survivals  of  these  old  saurians,  wonderfully  shrunk 
from  the  dimensions  of  their  progenitors,  but  still  suffi- 
ciently powerful  to  remain  monarch  of  the  swamp,  to  which 
position  their  structure  is  eminently  fitted. 

2.  Like  the  knights  of  old,  all  the  exposed  parts  of 
their  bodies  are  covered  with  an  impenetrable  armor,  so 
that  they  fear  neither  the  claws  of  the  panther,  the  fangs 
of  the  copperhead,  nor  the  close  embrace  of  the  constrictor. 
The  scales  which  constitute  this  armor  are  even  rifle-proof, 
and  sportsmen  along  the  Florida  rivers   see  their  bullets 
glance  off,  producing  upon  the  animal  probably  only  a 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    143 

slightly  uncomfortable  shock.  Achilles  could  be  wounded 
only  in  the  heel,  but  the  one  vulnerable  spot  of  the  alli- 
gator is  the  eye,  which,  cold,  cruel,  and  relentless,  is  al- 
ways on  the  lookout  for  prey.  The  soft  parts  of  the 
body,  on  the  under-side,  can  scarcely  be  approached  by  an 
enemy,  and  the  only  danger  to  which  they  are  exposed  is 
in  the  waters  of  Guiana,  where  the  ferocious  little  pirari 
fish  nips  off  their  toes. 

3.  The  tail,  which  is  but  a  tapering  elongation  of  the 
body,  constituting  nearly  half  the  length  of  the  animal,  is 
used  as  a  weapon  offensive  and  defensive.     One  fair  blow 
of  the  tail  of  an  adult  alligator  is  enough  to  dampen  the 
ardor  of  the  fiercest  of  tigers,  and  to  induce  a  meditative 
pause  on  the  part  of  the  most  thick-hided  rhinoceros. 
Deer  and  other  animals,  which  come  down  to  the  water 
to  drink,  are  stunned  by  a  blow  of  this  enormous  flail,  and 
are  easily  borne  off  into  the  water  to  appease  an  appetite 
which  appears  to  be  insatiable. 

4.  But  if  the  alligator  were  interrogated,  he  would  prob- 
ably claim  that  he  prided  himself  upon  his  jaws  more  than 
anything  else ;   and  this  with  good  reason.     Its  jaw  ca- 
pacity is  more  largely  developed  than  in  any  other  animal. 
The  head  is  enormous,  extending  straight  forward  in  a  line 
with  the  body  and  ending  in  a  snout.     It  is  protected  by 
the  hardest  of  bones,  and  furnished  with  the  toughest  and 
strongest  of  muscles.     It  literally  splits  in  two  from  one 
extremity  to  the  other,  the  upper  half  being  hung  upon  a 
hinge,  which   enables  it  to  open  as  freely  as  a  pair  of 
shears.     The  cavity  thus  exposed  is  armed  with  a  formida- 
ble set  of  teeth,  the  whole  constituting  an  apparatus  ad- 
mirably calculated  to  crush  out  all  opposition  when  occa- 
sion requires.     The  old  lady,  listening  to  the  description 
of  an  alligator  from  her  sailor  son,  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  la ! 
wasn't  he  a  horrid-looking  critter  ?"    "Well/'  was  the  re- 
ply, "he  did  not  have  the  most  amiable  expression  in  the 


144  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

world,  but  there  was  much  openness   about  his  counte- 
nance when  he  smiled." 

5.  His  color  is  a  muddy  brown,  and,  as  he  slowly  swims 
along  the  streams  or  floats  down  the  current,  he  can  scarce- 
ly be  distinguished  from  driftwood  ;  or,  as  he  lies  stretched 
out  on  the  shore,  he  may  easily  be  mistaken  for  a  half-de- 


AlUgators  in  Florida  Swamp. 

cayed  log.  But  let  any  animal  approach  him,  and  the  log 
at  once  shoots  into  astonishing  activity,  one  end  being 
changed  into  a  threshing-machine,  and  the  other  into  a 
veritable  mill  ready  to  crush  and  grind  any  grist  which 
may  be  offered.  The  larger  animals  are  glad  to  make  off, 
congratulating  themselves  if  no  bones  are  broken,  while 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    145 

the  smaller  ones  remain,  to  form  a  permanent  connection 
with  an  individual  of  whose  business  activity  they  have  had 
such  convincing  proofs. 

6.  In  fierceness  of  disposition  these  saurians  seem  to 
vary  in  just  the  ratio  of  their  length  of  jaw,  and  of  their 
ability  to  make  a  wide  opening  for  the  accommodation  of 
their  friends.     The  crocodiles  of  Egypt  and  India  have  the 
longest  and  most  pointed  snouts,  and  are  the  least  amiable 
of  all.     They  attack  man  and  beast  with  almost  uniform 
success.     They  grow  to  the  length  of  twenty  feet,  the  head 
comprising  about  one  seventh  of  the  body.     Unlike  their 
American  cousins,  they  prefer  the  flow  of  the  streams  to 
the  stagnant  waters  of  the  swamp. 

7.  Next  to  these  are  the  alligators  of  our   Southern 
States.     They  grow  to  a  length  of  about  fifteen  feet,  with 
a  nose  a  little  less  pointed  than  that  of  the  crocodile. 
They  are  formidable  enemies,  and  are  dreaded  by  all  who 
have  occasion  to  visit  the  swamps-.     When  captured  young, 
they  may  be  partially  tamed,  and,  while  small,  they  are 
often  treated  as  household  pets.     But  as  they  grow  up 
they  become  too  voracious  for  profit,  and  there  is  a  con- 
stant danger  of  the  old  instinct  asserting  itself  as  against 
their  artificial  training.     So,  on  the  whole,  they  are  not 
considered  desirable  members  of  a  civilized  community. 

8.  The  cayman  of  South  America  is  smaller  than  the 
alligator,  has  a  blunter  nose,  and  is  less  ferocious.     He  is 
savage  enough,  however,  and  the  natives 'of  those  regions 
hold  him  in  great  fear.     Sometimes  a  cayman-hunt,  will  be 
organized  on  a  grand  scale,  and  then,  if  one  is  hooked  and 
killed,  there  are  great  rejoicings.     It  often  happens,  how- 
ever, that  the  hunted  cayman  either  escapes  or  in  his  turn 
becomes  hunter,  in  which  case  the  rejoicings  give  place  to 
mourning. 

9.  The  eggs  of  these  saurians  are  deposited  in  the  sand 
near  the  streams.     The  cayman  pays  little  attention  to 

7 


146 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


them  when  once  deposited,  but  the  crocodiles  and  alliga- 
tors watch  their  nests  with  jealous  care.  During  March, 
which  is  the  breeding  season,  the  crocodiles  deposit  their 
eggs  in  the  sand  on  the  banks,  or,  in  preference,  in  small 
sand-banks  or  islands  on  the  stream.  The  eggs,  which  are 
white  and  hard,  in  size  resemble  those  of  a  domestic  goose. 
One  found  on  the  White  Nile  measured  exactly  three 
inches  and  a  half  in  length,  and  five  inches  and  thirteen 


The  Nile  Crocodile. 

sixteenths  in  circumference.  The  care  and  anxiety  be- 
stowed by  these  ferocious  creatures  upon  their  eggs  is  as- 
tonishing. When  about  to  lay,  the  female  crocodile  will 
dig  with  her  claws  a  hole  in  the  sand,  six  inches  deep,  drop 
her  egg  therein,  and  cover  it  up.  She  will  then  make 
several  holes  around  the  first,  to  mislead  those  in  search  of 
her  treasure.  Every  day  she  will  add  a  fresh  egg  to  her 
store,  at  the  same  time  carefully  enlarging  the  excavation, 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    147 

turning  them  and  re-covering  them  with  sand.  After  they 
are  hatched  by  the  sun's  rays,  the  mother  will  place  her 
young  in  the  shallow  water  of  a  retired  creek,  where  she  will 
nourish  them  until  they  are  capable  of  feeding  themselves. 

10.  An  Egyptian  sportsman,  who   supported  himself 
and  his  family  by  the  produce  of  his  gun,  with  three  of 
his  neighbors,  went  to  an  island — a  favorite  resort  of  croco- 
diles— to  hunt  for  their  eggs.     As  they  were  going  round 
the  island,  three  crocodiles  escaped  into   the  river.      On 
examining  the  spot,  a  quantity  of  eggs  was  discovered  in 
the  sand.     These  they  secured,  and  were  proceeding  back 
to  their  tent,  when  a  crocodile  who  had  watched  the  trans- 
action rushed  to  the  place  of  her  deposit,  and  as  rapidly 
returned  to  the  river,  and,  swimming,  followed  them  oppo- 
site to  their  abode,  where  until  nightfall  her  eyes  were  seen 
above  the  water.    The  sportsmen  feasted  sumptuously  upon 
their  spoil ;  but  as  soon  as  the  last  embers  of  their  fire  had 
died  away,  the  crocodile  charged  them  furiously,  repeating 
her  attacks  several  times  during  the  night ;  and  it  was  only 
by  the  frequent  discharge  of  their  fire-arms  that  they  kept 
her  off  at  all. 

11.  This  crocodile,  which  had  hitherto  remained  harm- 
less, now  became  furious,  and  attacked  all  the  cattle  it 
could  catch  upon  the  river-side.     Among  the  victims  was  a 
fine  mare  in  a  neighboring  village,  who,  as  usual,  was  al- 
lowed to  graze  in  the  coarse,  abundant  pasturage.     One 
day,  while  drinking,  she  was  seized  in  the  'back  of  the  neck 
by  the  jaws  of  the  crocodile.     The  mare,  being  a  powerful 
animal,  in  an  agony  of  pain  threw  up  her  head.     The 
crocodile  dropped  upon  her  back,  and  with  her  strange 
burden  the  mare  galloped  off  to  her  stable.     The  aston- 
ished villagers  immediately  set  upon  the  crocodile  with  their 
stout  sticks,  until  she  was  induced  to  let  go  her  hold  and 
dismount ;  but  the  mare  died  from  the  joint  effect  of  her 
wounds  and  the  fright. 


148  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


CAPTURE   OF   A   CAYMAN. 

1.  THE  cayman  is  the  terror  and  scourge  of  all  the 
large  rivers  in  South  America  near  the  line.     Perhaps  no 
animal  in  existence  bears  more  decided  marks  of  cruelty 
and  malice  than  the  cayman.     His  mouth  is  armed  with 
thirty-two  formidable  teeth  in  each  jaw,  but  he  has  no 
grinders  ;  he  is  made  to  snatch  and  swallow.     The  back  of 
the  cayman  may  be  said  to  be  almost  impenetrable  to  a 
musket-ball,  but  his  sides  are  not  nearly  so  hard  ;  indeed, 
were  the  sides  as  hard  and  unyielding  as  the  other  parts  of 
his  body,  there  would  not  be  elasticity  enough  to  admit  of 
expansion  after  taking  in  a  supply  of  food. 

2.  I  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  capture  a  cayman  for 
the  purpose  of  dissection.     To  this  end  we  went  up  the 
Essequibo  Eiver  to  a  creek  which  abounded  in  the  game 
we  were  seeking.     Here  I  baited  hooks  for  several  nights, 
and,  although  caymans  were  seen  in  plenty,  they  were  too 
wary  to  be  caught.     Several  times  they  came  up  and  took 
the  bait  off  the  hooks.     The  Indians  told  me  the  cayman 
would  never  be  captured  by  a  hook  like  the  one  we  used, 
and  I  finally  became  convinced  that  this  was  true.     As  a 
last  resort,  one  of  the  Indians  prepared  a  hook  and  bait  of 
his  own  and  placed  it  carefully  in  the  water.     He  then 
took  the  empty  shell  of  a  tortoise  and  gave  it  some  heavy 
blows  with  an  axe.    I  asked  him  why  he  did  that.    He  said 
that  it  was  to  let  the  cayman  hear  that  something  was 
going  on.     In  fact,  the  Indian  meant  it  for  the  cayman's 
dinner-bell. 

3.  Having  done  this,  we  went  back  to  the  hammocks, 
not  intending  to  visit  it  again  till  morning.     During  the 
night  the  jaguars  roared  and  grumbled  in  the  forest,  as 
though  the  world  was  going  wrong  with  them,  and  at  in- 
tervals we  could  hear  the  distant  cayman.     The  roaring 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.     149 

of  the  jaguars  was  awful,  but  it  was  music  to  the  dismal 
noise  of  these  hideous  and  malicious  reptiles.  About  half 
past  five  in  the  morning  the  Indian  stole  off  silently  to  take 
a  look  at  the  bait.  On  arriving  at  the  place,  he  set  up  a 
tremendous  shout.  We  all  jumped  out  of  our  hammocks 
and  ran  to  him.  The  Indians  got  there  before  me,  for 
they  had  no  clothes  to  put  on,  and  I  lost  two  minutes  in 
looking  for  my  trousers  and  in  slipping  into  them. 

4.  We  found  a  cayman,  ten  and  a  half  feet  long,  fast  at 
the  end  of  the  rope.     Nothing  now  remained  to  do  but  to 
get  him  out  of  the  water  without  injuring  his  scales.     We 
mustered  eight  strong.     I  informed  the  Indians  it  was  my 
intention  to  draw  him  quietly  out  of  the  water,  and  then 
secure  him.     They  looked  and  stared  at  each  other,  and 
said  I  might  do  it  myself,  but  they  would  have  no  hand  in 
it ;  the  cayman  would  worry  some  of  us.     On  saying  this, 
they  squatted  on  their  hams  with  the  most  perfect  indif- 
ference. 

5.  Daddy  Quashi,  my  negro  factotum,  was  for  applying 
to  our  guns  as  usual,  considering  them  our  best  and  safest 
friends.     I  immediately  offered  to  knock  him  down  for  his 
cowardice,  and  he  shrunk  back,  begging  that  I  would  be 
cautious  and  not  get  worried.     My  Indian  was  now  in  con- 
versation with  the  others,  and  they  asked  if  I  would  allow 
them  to  shoot  a  dozen  arrows  into  him,  and  thus  disable 
him.     This  would  have  ruined  all.     I  had  come  above 
three  hundred  miles  on  purpose  to  get.  a  cayman  unin- 
jured, and  not  to   carry  back  a  mutilated   specimen.     I 
rejected  this  proposition  with  firmness,  and  darted  a  dis- 
dainful eye  upon  the  Indians. 

6.  Daddy  Quashi  was  again  beginning  to  remonstrate, 
and  I  chased  him  on  the  sand-bank  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
He  told  me  afterward  he  thought  he  should  have  dropped 
down  dead  with  fright,  for  he  was  firmly  persuaded,  if  I 
had  caught  him,  I  should  have  bundled  him  into  the  cay- 


150  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

man's  jaws.    Here,  then,  we  stood  in  silence.    They  wanted 
to  kill  him,  and  I  wanted  to  take  him  alive. 

7.  I  now  walked  up  and  down  the  sand,  revolving  a 
dozen  projects  in  my  head.      The   canoe  was  at  a  con- 
siderable distance,  and  I  ordered  the  people  to  bring  it 
round  to  the  place  where  we  were.     The  mast  was  eight 
feet  long,  and  not  much  thicker  than  my  wrist.     I  took  it 
out  of  the  canoe  and  wrapped  the  sail  around  the  end  of  it. 
Now  it  appeared  clear  to  me  that,  if  I  went  down  upon  one 
knee,  and  held  the  mast  in  the  same  position  as  a  soldier 
holds  his  bayonet  when  rushing  to  a  charge,  I  could  force 
it  down  the  cayman's  throat,  should  he  come  open-mouthed 
at  me.     When  this  was  told  to  the  Indians  they  bright- 
ened up,  and  said  they  would  help  me  pull  him  out  of  the 
river. 

8.  " Brave  squad!"  said  I  to  myself,  "now  that  you 
have  got  me  between  yourselves  and  danger."     I  then  mus- 
tered all  hands  for  battle.     We  were,  four  South  American 
Indians,  two  negroes  from  Africa,  a  Creole  from  Trinidad, 
and  myself,  a  white  man  from  Yorkshire.     Daddy  Quashi 
hung  in  the  rear.     I  showed  him  a  large  Spanish  knife 
which  I  carried  ;  it  spoke  volumes  to  him,  and  he  shrugged 
his  shoulders  in  absolute  despair. 

9.  The  sun  was  just  peeping  over  the  high  forests  on 
the  eastern  hills,  as  if  coming  to  look  on  and  bid  us  act 
with  becoming  fortitude.     I  placed  all  the  people  at  the 
end  of  the  rope,  and  ordered  them  to  pull  till  the  cayman 
appeared  on  the  surface  of  the  water ;   and  then,  should 
he  plunge,  to  slacken  the  rope  and  let  him  go  again  into 
the  deep.      I  now  took  the  mast  in  my  hand,  and  sunk 
down  upon  one  knee  about  four  yards  from  the  water's 
edge.     The  people  pulled  the  cayman  to  the  surface ;  he 
plunged  furiously  as  soon  as  he  arrived  in  these  upper  re- 
gions, and  went  below  again  on  their  slackening  the  rope. 
I  saw  enough  not  to  fall  in  love  with  him  at  first  sight. 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.     151 

10.  I  now  told  them  we  would  run  all  risks,  and  have 
him  on  land  immediately.     They  pulled  again,  and  out  he 
came.     This  was  an  interesting  moment.     I  kept  my  po- 
sition firmly,  with  my  eyes  fixed  steadfast  on  him.    By  this 
time  he  was  within  two  yards  of  me.     I  saw  he  was  in  a 
state  of  fear  and  perturbation.     I  instantly  dropped  the 
mast,  sprang  up,  and  jumped  upon  his  back,  turning  half 
round  as  I  vaulted,  so  that  I  gained  my  seat  in  the  right 
position.     I  immediately  seized  his  fore-legs,  and,  by  main 
force,  twisted  them  on  his  back ;  thus  they  served  me  for 
a  bridle. 

11.  He  now  seemed  to  have  recovered  from  his  surprise, 
and,  probably  fancying  himself  in  hostile  company,  he  be- 
gan to  plunge  furiously,  and  lashed  the  sand  with  his  pow- 
erful tail.     I  was  out  of  reach  of  the  strokes  of  it  by  being 
near  the  head.     He  continued  to  plunge  and  strike,  and 
made  my  seat  very  uncomfortable.     It  must  have  been  a 
fine    sight  for  an   unconcerned    spectator.      The    people 
roared  out  in  triumph,  and  were  so  vociferous  that  it  was 
some  time  before  they  heard  me  tell  them  to  pull  me  and 
my  steed  farther  inland.     I  was   apprehensive   the  rope 
might  break,  and  then  there  would  be  every  chance  of  my 
going  down  to  the  regions  under  water  with  the  cayman. 
The  people  now  dragged  us  about  forty  feet  on  the  sand ; 
it  was  the  first  and  last  time  I  was  ever  on  a  cayman's 
back. 

12.  After  repeated  attempts  to  regain  his  liberty,  the 
cayman  gave  in,  and  became  tranquil  through  exhaustion. 
I  now  managed  to  tie  up  his  jaws,  and  firmly  secured  his 
fore-feet  in  the  position  I  had  held  them.     We  had  now 
another  severe  struggle  for  superiority,  but  he  was  soon 
overcome,  and  again  remained  quiet.     While  some  of  the 
people  were  pressing  upon  his  head  and  shoulders,  I  threw 
myself  on  his  tail,  and,  by  keeping  it  down  in  the  sand, 
prevented  him   from   kicking  up  another  dust.     He  was 


152  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

finally  conveyed  to  the  canoe,  and  then  to  the  place  where 
we  had  suspended  our  hammocks.  Here  he  was  put  to 
death  as  gently  as  possible,  and,  after  breakfast  was  over, 
I  commenced  the  work  of  dissection. 

Charles  Waterton. 


TUSSLE   WITH    A   CONSTRICTOR. 

1.  I  WISHED  to  find  a  good-sized  snake,  and  capture 
him  if  possible,  and  I   offered  a  reward  to   any  of  the 
negroes  who  would  find  one  in  the  forest  and  come  and 
let  me  know.     One  Sunday  morning  I  met  one  of  them 
in  the  forest  with  a  little  dog  with  him,  and  he  told  me  he 
was  going  to  hunt  armadillos.      On  coming  back,  about 
noon,  the  little  dog  began  to  bark  at  the  root  of  a  large 
tree,  and,  on  going  up  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  he  dis- 
covered a  snake,  and  hastened  back  to  inform  me. 

2.  The  sun  had  just  passed  the  meridian  in  a  cloudless 
sky ;  there  was  scarcely  a  bird  to  be  seen,  for  the  winged 
inhabitants  of  the  forest,  as  though  overcome  by  heat,  had 
retired  to  the  thickest  shade ;  all  would  have  been  like 
midnight  silence  were  it  not  for  the  shrill  voice  of  the 
pe-pe-yo  every  now  and  then   resounding  from  a  distant 
tree.     I  was  sitting  on  the  steps  of  an  old,  dismantled 
building  when  the  negro  and  his  little  dog  came  down  the 
hill  in  haste,  and  I  was  soon  informed   that  a  snake  had 
been  discovered ;  but  it  was  a  young  one,  called  the  bush- 
master,  a  rare  and  poisonous  reptile. 

3.  I  instantly  rose  up,  and,  laying  hold  of  the  eight-foot 
lance,  which  was  close  by — "  Well,  then,"  said  I,  "  we'll  go 
and  have  a  look  at  the  snake."     I  was  barefoot,  with  a 
hat  and  check  shirt  and  trousers  on,  and  a  pair  of  braces 
to  keep  them  up.     The  negro  had  his  cutlass,  and,  as  we 
ascended  the  hill,  another  negro,  armed  with  a  cutlass, 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.     153 

joined  us,  judging  from  our  pace  that  there  was  something 
to  do.  The  little  dog  came  along  with  us,  and  when  we 
had  got  about  a  mile  into  the  forest  the  negro  stopped, 
and  pointed  to  the  fallen  tree.  I  told  the  negroes  not  to 
stir  from  the  place  where  they  were,  and  to  keep  the  little 
dog  in,  and  that  I  would  go  on  and  reconnoiter. 

4.  I  advanced  up  to  the  place  slowly  and  cautiously. 
The  snake  was  well  concealed,  but  at  last  I  made  him  out ; 
it  was  a  coulacanara,  not  poisonous,  but  large  enough  to 
have  crushed  any  of  us  to  death.     He  was  something  more 
than  fourteen  feet  long.      This  species  of  snake  is  very 
rare,  and  is  much  thicker,  in  proportion  to  his  length,  than 
any  other  snake  in  the  forest.      A  coulacanara   fourteen 
feet  in  length  is  as  thick  as  a  common  boa  of  twenty-four. 
On  ascertaining  the  size  of  the  snake,  I  retired  slowly  the 
way  I  came.     Aware  that  the  day  was  on  the  decline,  and 
that  the  approach  of  night  would  be  detrimental  to  the 
dissection,  a  thought  struck  me  that  I  could  take  him 
alive. 

5.  When  I  told  this  to  the  negroes,  they  begged  and 
entreated  me  to  let  them  go  for  a  gun  and  more  force,  as 
they  were  sure  the  snake  would  kill  some  of  us.    But  I  had 
been  in  search  of  a  large  serpent  for  years,  and  now,  having 
come  up  with  one,  it  did  not  become  me  to  turn  soft.     So, 
taking  the  cutlass  from  one  of  the  negroes,  and  ranging 
them  both  behind  me,  I  told  them  to  follow  me,  and  that 
I  would  cut  them  down  if  they  offered  to  fly.     I  smiled  as 
I  said  this,  but  they  shook  their  heads  in  silence,  and  seemed 
to  have  but  a  bad  heart  of  i  fc. 

6.  When  we  got  to  the  place,  the  serpent  had  not  stirred, 
but  I  could  see  nothing  of  his  head.    A  species  of  woodbine 
had  formed  a  complete  mantle  over  the  fallen  tree,  almost 
impervious  to  the  rain  or  the  rays  of  the  sun.     Probably  he 
had  resorted  to  this  sequestered  place  for  a  length  of  time, 
as  it  bore  the  marks  of  ancient  settlement.     I  now  took  my 


154  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

knife  to  cut  away  the  woodbine  and  twigs  till  I  could  get 
a  good  view  of  his  head.  One  negro  stood  guard  close  be- 
hind me  with  the  lance,  and  near  him  the  other  with  a 
cutlass.  The  cutlass  which  I  had  taken  from  the  first  ne- 
gro was  on  the  ground  close  by  in  case  of  need. 

7.  After  working  in  dead  silence  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  with  one  knee  all  the  time  on  the  ground,  I  had 
cleared  away  enough  to  see  his  head.     It  appeared  coming 
out  between  the  first  and  second  coil  of  his  body,  and  was 
flat  on  the  ground.     This  was  the  very  position  I  wished 
him  to  be  in.     I  rose  in  silence,  and  retreated  very  slowly, 
making  a  sign  to  the  negroes  to  do  the  same.     The  dog 
was  sitting  at  a  distance  in  mute  observance.     I  could  now 
read  in  the  faces  of  the  negroes  that  they  considered  this  a 
very  unpleasant  affair,  and  they  made  another  attempt  to 
persuade  me  to  let  them  go  for  a  gun.     I  smiled  in  a  good- 
natured  manner,  and  made  a  feint  to  cut  them  down  with 
the  weapon  I  had  in  my  hand.     This  was  all  the  answer  I 
made  to  their  request,  and  they  looked  very  uneasy. 

8.  We  were  now  about  twenty  yards  from  the  snake's 
den.     I  ranged  the  negroes  behind  me,  and  told  him  who 
stood  next  me  to  lay  hold  of  the  lance  the  moment  I  struck 
the  snake,  and  that  the  other  must  attend  to  my  move- 
ments.    It  now  only  remained  for  me  to  take  their  cut- 
lasses from  them,  for  I  was  sure,  if  I  did  not  disarm  them, 
they  would  be  tempted  to  strike  the  snake  in  time  of  dan- 
ger, and  thus  for  ever  spoil  his  skin.     They  seemed  to  re- 
gard  this   as   an   act   of-  intolerable   tyranny  in   me,  and 
probably  nothing  kept  them  from  bolting  but  the  conso- 
lation that  I  was  to  be  between  them  and  the  snake.     In- 
deed, my  own  heart,  in  spite  of  all  I  could  do,  beat  quicker 
than  usual. 

9.  We  went  slowly  on  in  silence,  without  moving  our 
arms  or  heads,  in  order  to  prevent  all  alarm  as  much  as 
possible,  lest  the  snake  should  glide. off,  or  attack  us  in 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    155 

self-defense.  I  carried  the  lance  perpendicularly  before 
me,  with  the  point  about  a  foot  from  the  ground.  The 
snake  had  not  moved  ;  and,  on  getting  up  to  him,  I  struck 
him  with  the  lance  on  the  near  side,  just  behind  the  neck, 
and  pinned  him  to  the  ground.  That  moment  the  negro 
next  me  seized  the  lance  and  held  it  firmly  in  its  place, 
while  I  dashed  head  foremost  into  the  den  to  grapple  with 
the  snake  and  get  hold  of  his  tail  before  he  could  do  any 
mischief. 

10.  On  pinning  him  to  the  ground  with  the  lance,  he 
gave  a  tremendous  loud  hiss,  and  the  little  dog  ran  away, 
howling  as  he  went.     We  had  a  sharp  fray  in  the  den,  the 
rotten  sticks  flying  upon  all  sides,  and  each  party  strug- 
gling for  superiority.     I  called  out  to  the  second  negro  to 
throw  himself  upon  me,  as  I  found  I  was  not  heavy  enough. 
He  did  so,  and  the  additional  weight  was  of  great  service. 
I  had  now  got  firm  hold  of  his  tail,  and,  after  a  violent 
struggle  or  two,  he  gave  in,  finding  himself  overpowered. 
This  was  the  moment  to  secure  him.     So,  while  the  first 
negro  continued  to  hold  the  lance  firm  to  the  ground,  and 
the  other  was  helping  me,  I  contrived  to  unloose  my  braces, 
and  with  them  tied  up  the  snake's  mouth. 

11.  The  snake,  now  finding  himself  in  an  unpleasant 
situation,  tried  to  better  himself,  and  set  resolutely  to 
work,  but  we  overpowered  him.     We  contrived  to  make 
him  twist  himself  round  the  shaft  of  the  lance,  and  then 
prepared  to  convey  him  out  of  the  forest.     I  stood  by  the 
head,  and  held  it  firmly  under  my  arm  ;  one  negro  sup- 
ported the  middle,  and  the  other  the  tail.     In  this  order 
we  began  to  move  slowly  toward  home,  and  reached  it 
after  resting  ten  times,  for  the  snake  was  too  heavy  for  us 
to  support  him  without  stopping  to  recruit  our  strength. 
As  we  proceeded  onward  with  him  he  fought  hard  for  free- 
dom, but  all  in  vain.     The  day  was  now  too  far  spent  to 
think  of  dissecting  him.     If  I  killed  him,  a  partial  putre- 


156  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

faction  would  take  place  before  morning,  so  I  concluded  to 
put  him  into  a  very  strong  bag  which  I  had  brought  with 
me,  and  keep  him  alive  till  daylight.  After  securing  his 
mouth  afresh,  we  forced  him  into  the  bag,  and  left  him  to 
his  fate. 

12.  I  can  not  say  that  he  allowed  me  to  have  a  very 
quiet  night.     My  hammock  was   in   the  loft  just  above 
him,  and  the  floor  between  us  had  half  gone  to  decay. 
He  was  very  restless  and  fretful ;  and,  had  Medusa  been 
my  wife,  there  could  not  have  been  more  disagreeable  hiss- 
ing in  my  bed-chamber  that  night.     At  daybreak  I  bor- 
rowed ten  negroes  to  assist  in  taking  him  out  of  the  bag. 
We  held  him  down  by  main  force  until  I  killed  him.     By 
six  in  the  evening  he  was  completely  dissected.    On  examin- 
ing his  teeth,  I  observed  that  they  were  all  bent  like  tenter- 
hooks, pointing  down  his  throat,  and  not  large  or  strong ;  but 
they  are  exactly  suited  to  what  they  are  intended  by  nature 
to  perform.     The  snake  does  not  masticate  his  food,  and 
thus  the  only  service  his  teeth  have  to  perform  is  to  seize 
the  prey  and  hold  it  till  he  swallows  it  alive. 

13.  During  this  fray  my  old  negro,  Daddy  Quashi,  was 
absent,  and  returned  just  in  time  to  help  me  take  off  the 
skin.     He  had  a  particular  horror  for  snakes,  and  the  next 
week  I  had  an  opportunity  to  put  this  weakness  to  the  test. 
Having  left  my  umbrella  in  the  forest,  I  took  Daddy  Quashi 
to  help  me  look  for  it.     While  he  was  searching  about,  I 
came  to  the  scene  of  my  late  conflict,  and  in  an  old  timber 
path  I  observed  a  young  coulacanara,  ten  feet  long,  slowly 
moving  onward  ;  I  saw  he  was  not  thick  enough  to  break 
my  arm  in  case  he  got  twisted  around  it.     There  was  not  a 
moment  to  be  lost.     I  laid  hold  of  his  tail  with  my  left 
hand  ;  with  my  right  I  took  off  my  hat,  and  held  it  as  you 
would  hold  a  shield  for  defense. 

14.  The  snake  instantly  turned  and  came  on  to  me, 
with  his  head  about  a  yard  from  the  ground,  as  if  to  ask 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    157 

me  what  business  I  had  to  take  liberties  with  his  tail.  I 
let  him  come,  hissing  and  open-mouthed,  within  two  feet 
of  my  face,  and  then,  with  all  the  force  I  was  master  of,  I 
drove  my  fist,  shielded  by  my  hat,  full  in  his  jaws.  He 
was  stunned  and  confounded  by  the  blow,  and,  ere  he  could 
recover  himself,  I  had  seized  his  throat  with  both  hands  in 
such  a  position  that  he  could  not  bite  me  ;  I  then  allowed 
him  to  coil  himself  about  my  body,  and  marched  off  with 
him  as  my  lawful  prize.  He  pressed  me  hard,  but  not 
alarmingly  so.  Daddy  Quashi  now  came  up  with  the  um- 
brella. As  soon  as  he  saw  me,  and  in  what  company  I  was, 
he  ran  off  home,  I  after  him,  shouting  to  increase  his  fear. 
On  scolding  him  for  his  cowardice,  the  old  rogue  begged 
that  I  would  forgive  him,  for  that  the  sight  of  the  snake 
had  positively  made  him  sick  at  the  stomach. 

Charles  Waterton. 


CHAMELEONS;   THEIR    HABITS  AND   COLOR- 
CHANGES. 

1.  IN  consequence  of  the  incredible  stories  anciently 
told  of  the  chameleon,  one  is  hardly  disposed  to  regard 
that  animal  as  a  reality  ;  it  appears  to  find  its  proper  place 
in  mythology  rather  than  in  natural  history — among  fabled 
dragons,  centaurs,  and  griffins,  rather  than  among  the 
actualities  of  the  animal  kingdom.  The  chameleon,  how- 
ever, has  a  real  existence  ;  and,  after  fiction  and  fable  are 
brushed  aside,  a  very  curious  creature  indeed  remains.  It 
belongs  to  the  Saurian  order  (lizards).  The  genus  Chamceleo 
embraces  about  twenty  species,  none  of  them  American. 
With  one  exception,  the  common  chameleon,  which  is  natu- 
ralized in  Southern  Spain  and  in  Sicily,  these  animals  are 
found  only  in  the  warmer  parts  of  Africa  and  Asia. 


158  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

2.  The  chameleon  is  from  ten  to  fifteen  inches  in  length, 
whereof  one  half  is  represented  by  the  prehensile  tail.  The 
body  is  roughly  pyramidal  in  shape  ;  the  skin  is  covered 
with  papillous  elevations  instead  of  scales,  and  these,  in 
some  of  the  species,  assume  the  shape  of  spiny  processes 
along  the  ridge  of  the  back  and  the  median  line  of  the 
chest  and  belly.  The  toes,  five  in  number,  are  divided  into 
two  opposable  sets  of  two  and  three,  the  toes  of  each  set 
being  webbed  down  to  the  claws,  which  are  long  and  sharp. 
The  head  is  angular,  rising  into  a  pyramidal  occiput.  The 


UH 

The  Chameleon. 

eyeball  is  very  large,  protruding,  covered  with  a  single  lid, 
which  has  a  minute  aperture  in  the  center  for  the  very 
small  pupil.  There  is  no  external  ear. 

3.  The  tongue  is  extensible  to  the  length  of  half  of  the 
total  length  of  the  animal — that  is,  from  five  to  seven  inches. 
The  lungs  are  large,  and  connect  with  air-cells  underlying 
the  skin.  The  neck  is  so  short  as  to  prevent  the  head  be- 
ing turned  from  side  to  side.  Though  the  chameleon  is 
arboreal  in  its  habits,  it  is  very  slow  in  its  movements.  It 
is  unprovided  with  any  weapons  of  defense  against  its  ene- 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    159 

mies.  The  female  lays  about  thirty  eggs,  which  are  de- 
posited in  a  hollow  in  the  ground,  and  covered  with  loose 
earth. 

4.  The  immobility  of  the  chameleon  distinguishes  it 
markedly  from  the  rest  of  the  lizard  tribe,  which  are  gen- 
erally active  and  quick  in  their  movements.     Alfred  Brehm 
states  that  the  chameleon  never  moves  at  all  except  from 
necessity ;  it  will  remain  in  one  position  on  a  branch  or 
twig  for  hours  at  a  time,  firmly  grasping  with  tail  and 
paws  the  object  on  which  it  is  perched.     The  eyes,  on  the 
contrary,  are  nearly  always  in  motion.     In  their  battles 
they  use  their  teeth,  but  without  doing  serious  injury  ;  and 
they  have  a  curious  way  of  solemnly  lashing  one  another 
with  their  tails.     But  such  activity  as  this  is  exceptional 
in  the  chameleon  :  it  is  'to  be  seen  especially  in  the  pairing 
season. 

5.  When  preying  on  winged  insects,  the  chameleon  is 
seen  occasionally  to  protrude  the  knobbed  end  of  his  tongue, 
and  in  an  instant  that  member  is  shot  forth  and  again  re- 
tracted, bearing  the  prey  into  the  captor's  mouth.      The 
extremity  of  the  tongue  exudes  a  sticky  substance  on  which 
the  prey  is  caught.     When  flies  and  other  winged  insects 
are  not  to  be  had,  the  chameleon's  swivel-eyes  scan  the 
trunk  of  the  tree,  and  the  branches  above,  below,  and  on 
all  sides  around,  to  see  if  any  creeping  thing  may  be  caught. 
If  any  such  creature  is  approaching  the  spot  where  the 
chameleon  is  lying,  he  waits  till  it  comes  within  striking 
distance,  and  then  "discharges"  his  tongue  at  it. 

6.  But,  if  the  creature  is  traveling  away  from  him,  he 
pursues,  though  with  grave  deliberation.     If  the  prey  comes 
very  near  to  his  muzzle,  the  chameleon  retreats  a  little,  to 
increase  the  distance,  and  then  darts  out  his  tongue.     In 
performing  this   act,  the   chameleon   displays  very  great 
activity ;  otherwise,  all  his  movements  are  the  reverse  of 
precipitate.     Thus,  if  he  would  change  from  his  normal 


160  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

position  of  absolute  quietude — his  belly  resting  on  a  hori- 
zontal branch,  which  he  grasps  as  firmly  as  he  can  with  all 
five  hands  (for  his  tail  is  a  fifth  hand) — he  first  advances 
one  of  the  fore-paws  one  step ;  then  the  tail  is  relaxed, 
advanced  an  equal  distance,  and  again  coiled  tight ;  next 
the  other  feet  are  advanced  a  step,  one  after  another  ;  and 
so  on.  It  is  not  easy  to  recognize  the  propriety  of  the  name 
little  lion  (Chameleon)  given  to  this  reptilian  tardigrade  by 
the  ancient  Greeks.  And  the  animal  is  as  harmless  as  it  is 
slow  of  movement,  though  the  ancients  supposed  that  in 
the  dog-days  it  assumes  some  of  the  lion's  ferocity. 

7.  The  large,  projecting  eyeballs  of  the  chameleon  are 
capable  of  a  great  variety  of  movements  ;  and,  what  is  very 
curious,  each  of  them  may,   and  usually  does,  act  inde- 
pendently of  the  other.      This  circumstance  compensates 
for  the  fixedness  of  the  head,  enabling  the  animal  to  direct 
its  glances  on  all  sides,  without  the  necessity  of  calling  into 
play  any  muscles  save  those  of  the  eyeball.     Still,  when 
about  to  strike,  the  chameleon  brings  both  of  its  eyes  to 
bear  upon  the  object. 

8.  "  Notwithstanding,"  says  "Weissenbaum,  "  the  strictly 
symmetrical  construction  of  the  chameleon  as  to  its  two 
halves,  the  eyes  move  independently  of  each  other,  and 
convey  different  impressions  to  the  different  centers  of 
perception  :  the  consequence  is  that,  when  the  animal  is 
agitated,  its  movements  appear  like  those  of  two  animals 
glued  together.     Each  half  wishes  to  move  its  own  way, 
and  there  is  no  concert  of  action.     The  chameleon,  there- 
fore, is  not  able  to  swim  like  other  animals  ;  it  is  so  fright- 
ened when  put  into  water  that  the  faculty  of  concentration 
is  lost,  and  it  tumbles  about  as  if  in  a  state  of  intoxication. 
Nay,  more,  the  chameleon  may  be  asleep  on  one  side  and 
awake  on  the  other." 

9.  The  chameleon  is  often  seen  to  inhale  air,  gulp  after 
gulp,  with  great  avidity,  thus  inflating  its  body  enormously, 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    161 

even  to  the  feet  and  tail.  As  has  been  already  stated,  the 
animal's  lungs  are  very  large — so  large,  indeed,  that  it  was 
supposed  by  Pliny,  who  simply  transcribes  the  accounts 
given  by  Greek  authors,  that  the  lungs  almost  filled  the 
entire  cavity  of  the  body ;  these  lungs  connect  with  the 
air-cells  beneath  the  skin.  By  taking  air  into  the  lungs, 
whence  it  passes  into  the  air-cells,  the  chameleon  is  able  to 
innate  itself  to  as  much  as  twice  its  ordinary  size  ;  and  often 
it  remains  so  inflated  for  a  long  time,  now  slightly  collaps- 
ing, again  swelling  out,  till  the  skin  becomes  as  tense  as  the 
head  of  a  dram.  No  doubt  it  was  this  power  of  self-infla- 
tion which  led  the  ancients  to  suppose  that,  "  alone  among 
animals,  the  chameleon  neither  eats  nor  drinks,  its  only 
sustenance  being  air." 

10.  But  the  color-changes  of  the  chameleon  form  per- 
haps the  most  interesting  phenomenon  connected  with  this 
animal.  We  need  not  repeat  the  fabulous  stories  told  about 
these  color-changes  :  the  facts  which  can  be  strictly  verified 
by  direct  observation  are  wonderful  enough  without  the 
adornments  of  imagination.  These  changes  of  color  range 
from  whity-yellow,  through  yellow,  bright  and  dark  green, 
to  dull  black  ;  and  these  diversities  of  coloration  may  affect 
the  entire  surface  of  the  animal,  or  one  or  other  of  its  sides, 
or  may  appear  only  in  spots.  When  the  chameleon  is  asleep, 
and  not  exposed  to  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  its  color  is  a 
whity-yellow  ;  when  basking  in  the  sun,  it  is  a  dingy  black 
or  dusky  brown.  On  being  aroused  from  sleep,  the  side 
which  is  first  awakened  assumes  a  darker  shade.  There  is 
reason  for  believing  that  sunlight,  apart  from  the  warmth 
which  accompanies  it,  is  very  grateful  to  the  chameleon, 
and,  in  response  to  this  stimulus,  he  at  once  begins  his 
play  of  color.  Sdence  MontUy 


162  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


THE    CHAMELEON. 

1.  OFT  has  it  been  my  lot  to  mark 

A  proud,  conceited,  talking  spark, 
Returning  from  his  finished  tour, 
Grown  ten  times  perter  than  before  : 
Whatever  word  you  chance  to  drop, 
The  traveled  fool  your  mouth  would  stop. 
"  Sir,  if  my  judgment  you'll  allow, 
I've  seen,  and  sure  I  ought  to  know." 
So  begs  you  pay  a  due  submission, 
And  acquiesce  in  his  decision. 

2.  Two  travelers  of  such  a  cast, 

As  o'er  Arabia's  wilds  they  passed, 
And  on  their  way,  in  friendly  chat, 
Now  talked  of  this,  and  then  of  that ; 
Discoursed  a  while,  'mongst  other  matter. 
Of  the  chameleon's  form  and  nature. 

3.  "A  stranger  animal,"  cried  one, 

"  Sure  never  lived  beneath  the  sun  : 
A  lizard's  body,  lean  and  long, 
A  fish's  head,  a  serpent's  tongue, 
Its  tooth  with  triple  claws  disjoined, 
And  what  a  length  of  tail  behind  ! 
How  slow  its  pace  !  and  then  its  hue, 
Whoever  saw  so  fine  a  blue  ! " 

4.  "  Hold  there  ! "  the  other  quick  replies  ; 
"  'Tis  green  :  I  saw  it  with  these  eyes, 
As  late  with  open  mouth  it  lay, 

And  warmed  itself  in  the  sunny  ray  ; 
Stretched  at  its  ease  the  beast  I  viewed, 
And  saw  it  eat  the  air  for  food." 


CURIOUS  DWELLERS  OF  SWAMP  AND  FOREST.    163 

5.  "  I've  seen  it,  sir,  as  well  as  you, 
And  must  again  affirm  it  blue  ; 
At  leisure  I  the  beast  surveyed, 
Extended  in  the  cooling  shade." 

6.  "'Tis  green  !  'tip  green,  sir,  I  assure  ye." 
"  Green  ! "  cries  the  other,  in  a  fury  ; 
"Why,  sir,  d'ye  think  I've  lost  my  eyes  ?" 
"'Twere  no  great  loss,"  the  friend  replies  ; 
"For  if  they  always  serve  you  thus, 
You'll  find  them  but  of  little  use." 

7.  So  high  at  last  the  contest  rose, 

From  words  they  almost  came  to  blows, 
When  luckily  came  by  a  third  ; 
To  him  the  question  they  referred, 
And  begged  he'd  tell  them  if  he  knew 
Whether  the  thing  was  green  or  blue. 

8.  "  Sirs,"  cried  the  umpire,  "cease  your  pother  ; 
The  creature's  neither  one  nor  t'other ; 

I  caught  the  animal  last  night, 
And  viewed  him  o'er  by  candle-light ; 
I  marked  it  well,  'twas  black  as  jet — 
You  stare,  but,  sirs,  I've  got  it  yet, 
And  can  produce  it."     "Pray,  sir,  do  ; 
I'll  lay  my  life  the  thing  is  blue." 

9.  "And  I'll  be  sworn  that  when.ye've  seen 
The  reptile,  you'll  pronounce  it  green." 
"  Well,  then,  at  once  to  end  this  doubt," 
Replies  the  man,  "  I'll  turn  him  out  ; 
And  when  before  }^our  eyes  I've  set  him, 
If  you  don't  find  him  black,  I'll  eat  him," 
He  said  ;  then  full  before  their  sight 
Produced  the  beast,  and  lo  !  'twas  white. 

Merriek. 


PART   VIII. 
OUR    FOREST   CHORISTERS. 


SONGSTERS  OF  THE  GARDEN. 

1.  FOR  many  years  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  noting 
down  some  of  the  leading  events  of  my  embowered  soli- 
tude, such  as  the  coming  of  certain  birds  and  the  like, 
after  the  fashion  of  White  of  Selborne,  rather  than  prop- 
erly digested  natural  history.     I  thought  it  not  impossible 
that  a  few'simple  stories  of  my  winged  acquaintances  might 
be  found  entertaining  by  persons  of  kindred  taste. 

2.  The  return  of  the  robin  is  commonly  announced  by 
the  newspapers,  like  that  of  eminent  and  notorious  people  to 
a  watering-place,  as  the  first  authentic  notification  of  spring. 
And  such  his  appearance  in  the  orchard  and  garden  un- 
doubtedly is.      But,   in  spite  of  his  name   of   migratory 
thrush,  he  stays  with  us  all  winter,  and  I  have  seen  him 
when  the  thermometer  marked  fifteen  degrees  below  zero, 
armed  impregnably  within  like  Emerson's  titmouse,  and  as 
cheerful  as  he. 

3.  The  robin  has  a  bad  reputation  among  people,  who 
do  not  value  themselves  less,  for  being  fond  of  cherries. 
There  is,  I  admit,  a  spice  of  vulgarity  in  him,  and  his  song, 
rather  of  the  Bloomfield  sort,  too  largely  ballasted  with 
prose.     His  ethics  are  of  the  Poor  Richard  school,  and  the 
main  chance  which  calls  forth  all  his  energies  is  altogether 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  165 

of  the  belly.  He  never  has  those  fine  intervals  of  lunacy 
into  which  his  cousins,  the  cat-bird  and  the  mavis,  are  apt 
to  fall.  But,  for  a7  that  and  twice  as  muckle  's  a'  that,  I 
would  not  exchange  him  for  all  the  cherries  that  ever  came 
out  of  Asia  Minor.  With  whatever  faults,  he  has  not 
wholly  forfeited  that  superiority  which  belongs  to  the  chil- 
dren of  nature. 

4.  The  robins  are  not  good  solo-singers,  but  their  cho- 
rus, as,  like  primitive  fire-worshipers,  they  hail  the  return 
of  light  and  warmth,  is  unrivaled.     There  are  a  hundred 
singing  like  one.     They  are  noisy  enough  then,  and  sing, 
as  poets  should,   with  no  afterthought.      But  when  they 
come  after  cherries  to  the  tree  near  rny  window,  they  muf- 
fle their  voices,  and  their  faint  "  pip,  pip,  pop  ! "  sounds 
far  away  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  where  they  know  I 
shall  not  suspect  them  of  robbing  the  great  walnut-tree  of 
its  bitter-rinded  store.     They  are  feathered  Pecksniffs,  to 
be  sure,  but  then  how  brightly  their  breasts,   that  look 
rather  shabby  in  the  sunlight,  shine  on  a  rainy  day  against 
the  dark  green  of  the  fringe-tree  !    After  they  have  pinched 
and  shaken  all  the  life  out  of  an  earthworm,  as  Italian 
cooks  pound  all  the  spirit  out  of  a  steak,  and  then  gulp 
him,  they  stand  up  in  honest  self -confidence,  expand  their 
red  waistcoats  with  the  virtuous  air  of  a  lobby  member, 
and  outface  you  with  an  eye  that  calmly  challenges  inquiry. 
"  Do  I  look  like  a  bird  that  knows  the  flavor  of  raw  ver- 
min ?    I  throw  myself  upon  a  jury  of  my  peers." 

5.  Ask  any  robin  if  he  ever  ate  anything  less  ascetic 
than  the  frugal  berry  of  the  juniper,  and  he  will  answer 
that  "  his  vows  forbid  him."     Can  such  a  bosom  cover  such 
depravity  ?     Alas,  yes  !   I  have  no  doubt  his  breast  was 
redder  at  that  very  moment  with  the  blood  of  my  raspber- 
ries.    On  the  whole,  he  is  a  doubtful  friend  of  the  garden. 
He  makes  his  dessert  on  all  kinds  of  berries,  and  is  not 
averse  to  early  pears.     But  when  we  remember  how  om- 


166  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

nivorous  he  is,  eating  his  own  weight  in  an  incredibly 
short  time,  and  that  Nature  seems  exhaustless  in  her  inven- 
tion of  new  insects  hostile  to  vegetation,  perhaps  we  may 
reckon  that  he  does  more  good  than  harm.  For  my  part, 
I  would  rather  have  his  cheerfulness  and  kind  neighbor- 
hood than  many  berries. 

6.  For  his  cousin,  the  cat-bird,  I  have  a  still  warmer  re- 
gard.    Always  a  good  singer,  he  sometimes  nearly  equals 
the  brown  thrush,  and  has  the  merit  of  keeping  up  his 
music  later  in  the  evening  than  any  bird  of  my  familiar 
acquaintance.     Ever  since  I  can  remember,  a  pair  of  them 
have  built  in  a  gigantic  syringa  near  our  front  door,  and 
I  have  known  the  male  to  sing  almost  uninterruptedly, 
during  the  evenings  of  early  summer,  till  twilight  darkened 
into  dark.     They  differ  greatly  in  vocal  talent,  but  all  have 
a  delightful  way  of  crooning  over,  and,  as  it  were,  rehears- 
ing their  song  in  an  undertone,  which  makes  their  near- 
ness always  unobtrusive.     Though  there  is  the  most  trust- 
worthy witness  to  the  imitative  propensity  of  this  bird,  I 
have  only  once,  during  an  intimacy  of  more  than  forty  years, 
heard  him  indulge  it.     In  that  case  the  imitation  was  by  no 
means  so  close  as  to  deceive,  but  a  free  reproduction  of  the 
notes  of  some  other  birds,  especially  of  the  oriole,  as  a  kind 
of  variation  of  his  own  song. 

7.  The  cat-bird  is  as  shy  as  the  robin  is  familiar.     Only 
when  his  nest  or  his  fledglings  are  approached  does  he  be- 
come noisy  and  aggressive.     I  have  known  him  to  station 
his  young  in  a  thick  cornel-bush,  on  the  edge  of  the  rasp- 
berry-bed, after  the  fruit  began  to  ripen,  and  feed  them 
there  for  a  week  or  more.     In  such  cases  he  shows  none  of 
that  conscious  guilt  which  the  robin  shows.     On  the  con- 
trary, he  will  maintain  his  post  in  the  thicket,  and  sharply 
scold  the  intruder  who  ventures  to  steal  Ms  berries.     After 
all,  his  claim  is  only  for  tithes,  while  the  robin  will  bag 
your  entire  crop  if  he  gets  a  chance. 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  167 

8.  Dr.  Watts's  statement  that  "  birds  in  their  little  nests 
agree,"  like  too  many  others  intended  to  form  the  infant 
mind,  is  far  from  being  true.     On  the  contrary,  the  most 
peaceful  relations  of  the  different  species  to  each  other  is 
that  of  armed  neutrality.     They  are  very  jealous  of  their 
neighbors.      A  few  years  ago   I   was   much   interested  in 
the  house-building  of  a  pair  of  summer  yellow-birds.    They 
had  chosen  a  very  pretty  site  near  the  top  of  a  tall  white 
lilac,  within  easy  eye-shot  of  a  chamber-window.     A  very 
pleasant  thing  it  was  to  see  their  little  home  growing  with 
mutual  help,  to  watch  their  industrious  skill  interrupted 
only  by  little  flirts  and  snatches  of  endearment,  frugally 
cut  short  by  the  common  sense  of  the  tiny  housewife. 
They  had  brought  their  work  nearly  to  an  end,  and  had 
already  begun  to  line  it  with  fern-down,  the  gatherings  of 
which  demanded   more  distant    journeys  and  longer  ab- 
sences. 

9.  But,  alas  !  the  syringa,  immemorial  manor  of  the  cat- 
birds, was  not  more   than  twenty  feet  away,    and   these 
"giddy  neighbors"  had,  as  it  appeared,  been  all  along 
jealously  watchful,  though  silent,  witnesses  of  what  they 
deemed  an  intrusion  of  squatters.      No   sooner  were  the 
pretty  mates  fairly  gone  for  a  new  load  of  lining  than 

"  To  their  unguarded  nests  these  weasel  Scots  came  steal- 

ing." 

Silently  they  flew  back  and  forth,  each  giving  a  vengeful 
dab  at  the  nest  in  passing.  They  did  not  fall  to  and  delib- 
erately destroy  the  nest,  for  they  might  have  been  caught 
at  their  mischief.  As  it  was,  whenever  the  yellow-birds 
came  back,  their  enemies  were  hidden  in  their  own  sight- 
proof  bush.  Several  times  their  unconscious  victims  re- 
paired damages,  but  at  length,  after  counsel  taken  together, 
they  gave  it  up.  Perhaps,  like  other  unlettered  folk,  they 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  devil  was  in  it,  and  yielded 
to  the  invisible  persecutions  of  witchcraft. 


168  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

10.  The  robins,  by  constant  attacks  and  annoyances, 
have  succeeded  in  driving  off  the  blue-jays  who  used  to 
build  in  our  pines,  their  gay  colors  and  quaint,  noisy  ways 
making  them  welcome  and  amusing  neighbors.     I  once  had 
a  chance  to  do  a  kindness  to  a  household  of  them,  which 
they  received  with  very  friendly  condescension.     I  had  had 
my  eye  for  some  time  past  upon  a  nest,  and  was  puzzled  by 
a  constant  fluttering  of  what  seemed  full-grown  wings  in  it 
whenever  I  drew  nigh.     At  last  I  climbed  the  tree,  in  spite 
of  the  angry  protests  from  the  old  birds  against  my  intru- 
sion.    The  mystery  had  a  very  simple  solution.     In  build- 
ing the  nest,  a  long  piece  of  pack-thread  had  been  some- 
what loosely  woven  in,  three  of  the  young  had  contrived  to 
entangle  themselves  in  it,  and  had  become  full-grown  with- 
out being  able  to  launch  themselves  into  the  air.     One  was 
unharmed  ;  another  had  so  tightly  twisted  the  cord  about 
its  shank  that  one  foot  was  curled  up  and  seemed  para- 
lyzed ;   the  third,    in   his  struggles  to  escape,  had  sawn 
through  the  flesh  of  the  thigh  and  so  much  harmed  itself 
that  I  thought  it  humane  to  put  an  end  to  its  misery. 

11.  When  I  took  out  my  knife  to  cut  their  hempen 
bonds,  the  heads  of  the  family  seemed  to  divine  my  friend- 
ly intent.     Suddenly  ceasing  their  cries  and  threats,  they 
perched  quietly  within  reach  of  my  hand,  and  watched  me 
in  my  work  of  manumission.     This,  owing  to  the  flutter- 
ing terror  of  the  prisoners,  was  an  affair  of  some  delicacy  ; 
but  ere  long  I  was  rewarded  by  seeing  one  of  them  fly  away 
to  a  neighboring  tree,  while  the  cripple,  making  a  para- 
chute of  his  wings,  came  lightly  to  the  ground,  and  hopped 
off  as  well  as  he  could  with  one  leg,  obsequiously  waited 
upon  by  his  elders.     A  week  later  I  had  the  satisfaction 
of   meeting   him   in   the  pine  walk,  in  good  spirits,  and 
already  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  balance  himself 
with  the  lame  foot.     I  have  no  doubt  that  in  his  old  age 
he  accounted  for  his  lameness  by  some  handsome  story  of 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  169 

a  wound  received  at  the  famous  Battle  of  the  Pines,  when 
one  tribe,  overcome  by  numbers,  was  driven  away  from  its 
ancient  camping-ground. 

12.  Orioles  are  in  great  plenty  with  me.     I  have  seen 
seven  males  flashing  about  the  garden  at  once.     A  merry 
crew  of  them  swing  their  hammocks  from  the  pendulous 
boughs.     Last  year  a  pair  of  orioles  built  on  the  lowest 
trailer  of  a  weeping  elm,  which  hung  within  ten  feet  of 
our  drawing-room  window,  and  so  low  that  I  could  reach 
it  from   the  ground.     The  nest  was  wholly  woven  and 
felted  with  ravelings  of  woolen  carpet,  in  which  scarlet 
predominated.     They  were  very  bold  in  the  quest  of  cord- 
age, and  I  have  often  watched  them  stripping  the  fibrous 
bark  from  the  honeysuckle  growing  over  the  very  door. 

13.  But,   indeed,    all  my  birds  look  upon  me  as  if  I 
were  a  mere  tenant  at  will,  and  they  were  landlords.    With 
shame  I  confess  it,  I  have  been  bullied  even  by  a  hum- 
ming-bird.    This  spring,  as  I  was  cleansing  a  pear-tree  of 
its  lichens,  one  of  these  little  zigzagging  blurs  came  hur- 
rying toward  me,  couching  his  long  bill  like  a  lance,  his 
throat  sparkling  with  angry  fire,  to  warn  me  off  from  a 
Missouri  currant  whose  honey  he  was  sipping.     And  many 
a  time  he  has  driven  me  out  of  a  flower-bed. 

14.  The  bobolinks  are  generally  chance  visitors,  tink- 
ling through  the  garden  in  blossoming-time  ;  but  this  year, 
owing  to  the  long  rains  early  in  the  season,  their  favorite 
meadow  was  overflowed,  and  they  were  driven  to  the  up- 
land.    So  I  had  a  pair  of  them  domiciled  in  my  grass-field. 
The  male  used  to  perch  in  an  apple-tree,  then  in  full 
bloom,  and,  while  I  stood  perfectly  still  close  by,  he  would 
circle  away,  quivering  round  the  entire  field  of  five  acres, 
with  no  break  in  his  song,  and  settle  down  again  among 
the  blossoms,  to  be  hurried  away  again  almost  immediately 
by  a  new  rapture  of  music.     He  had  the  volubility  of  an 
Italian  charlatan  at  a  fair,  and,  like  him,  appeared  to  be 


170  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

proclaiming  the  merits  of  some  quack  remedy.  Opodeldoc- 
opodeldoc-try-Doctor- Lincoln' s-opodeldoc  !  he  seemed  to  re- 
peat over  and  over  again,  with  a  rapidity  that  would  have 
distanced  the  deftest-tongued  Figaro  that  ever  rattled. 

15.  The  bobolinks  build  in  considerable  numbers  in  a 
meadow  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  us.     When  they  are 
breeding,  if  I  chance  to  pass,  one  of  the  male  birds  always 
accompanies  me  like  a  constable,  flitting  from  post  to  post 
of  the  rail-fence,  with  a  short  note  of  reproof  continually 
repeated  till  I  am  fairly  out  of  the  neighborhood.     Then 
he  will  swing  away  into  the  air  and  run  down  the  wind, 
gurgling  music  without  stint  over  the  unheeding  tussocks 
of  meadow-grass  and  dark  clumps  of  bulrushes  that  mark 
his  domain.     We  have  no  bird  whose  song  will  match  the 
nightingale's  in  compass,  none  whose  note  is  so  rich  as 
that  of  the  European  blackbird,  but  for  mere  rapture  I 
have  never  heard  the  bobolink's  rival. 

16.  A  pair  of  pewees  have  built  immemorially  on  a  jut- 
ting brick  in  the  arched  entrance  of  the  ice-house.     Al- 
ways on  the  same  brick,  and  never  more  than  a  single  pair, 
though  two  broods  of  five  each  are   raised   there  every 
summer.     How  do  they  settle  their  claim  to  the  home- 
stead ?    By  what  right  of  primogeniture  ?     Once  the  chil- 
dren of  the  man  employed  about  the  place  oologized  the 
nest,  and  the  pewees  left  us  for  a  year  or  two.     I  felt 
toward  these  boys  as  the  messmates  of  the  Ancient  Mariner 
did   toward  him  after  he   shot  the  albatross.     But   the 
pewees  came  back  at  last,  and  one  of  them  is  now  on  his 
wonted  perch,  so  near  my  window  that  I  can  hear  the 
click  of  his  bill  as  he  snaps  at  a  fly  with  unerring  precision. 

17.  The  pewee  is  the  first  bird  to  pipe  in  the  morning  ; 
and  during  the  early  summer  he  preludes  his  matutinal 
ejaculation  of  pewee  with  a  slender  whistle,  unheard  at  any 
other  time.     He  saddens  with  the  season,  and  as  summer 
declines  he  changes  his  note  to  cheu,  pewee  f  as  if  in  lam- 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  171 

entation.  Had  he  been  an  Italian  bird,  Ovid  would 
have  had  a  plaintive  tale  to  tell  about  him.  He  is  so  fa- 
miliar as  often  to  pursue  a  fly  through  the  open  windows  of 
my  library. 

18.  There  is  something  inexpressibly  dear  to  me  in  these 
old  friendships  of  a  lifetime.     There  is  scarce  a  tree   of 
mine  but  has  had,  at  some  time  or  other,  a  happy  home- 
stead among  its  boughs,  to  which  can  I  not  say, 

"  Many  light  hearts  and  wings, 
Which  now  be  dead,  lodged  in  thy  living  bowers." 
My  walk  under  the  pines  would  lose  half  its  summer 
charm  were  I  to  miss  that  shy  anchorite,    the   Wilson's 
thrush,  nor  hear  in  haying-time  the  metallic  ring  of  his 
song,  that  justifies  his  rustic  name  of  scythe-whet. 

19.  I  protect  my  game  as  jealously  as  an  English  squire. 
If  anybody  had  odlogized  a  certain  cuckoo's-nest  I  know  of, 
it  would  have  left  a  sore  place  in  my  mind  for  weeks.     I 
love  to  bring  these  aborigines  back  to  the  mansuetude  they 
showed  to  the  early  voyagers,  and  before  they  had  grown 
accustomed  to  man  and  his  savage  ways.     And  they  repay 
your  kindness  with  a  sweet  familiarity  too  delicate  ever  to 
breed  contempt.     I  have  made  a  Penn- treaty  with  them, 
preferring  that  to  the  Puritan  way  with  the  natives,  which 
converted  them  to  a  little  Hebraism  and  a  great  deal  of 
Medford  rum.     If  they  will  not  come  near  enough  to  me 
— as  most  of  them  will — I  bring  them  close  with  an  opera- 
glass,  a  much  better  weapon  than  a  gun.     I  would  not,  if 
I  could,  convert  them  from  their  pretty  pagan  ways. 

20.  The  only  one  I  sometimes  have  savage  doubts  about 
is  the  red  squirrel.     /  think  he  oologizes.     I  know  he  eats 
cherries,  and  he  gnaws  off  the  small  ends  of  the  pears  to 
get  the  seeds.     He  steals  the  corn  from  under  the  noses  of 
my  poultr^.     But  what  would  you  have  ?    He  will  come 
down  upon  the  limbs  of  a  tree  I  am  lying  under  till  he  is 
within  a  yard  of  me.     He  and  his  mate  will  scurry  up  and 


172  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

down  the  great  black-walnut  for  my  diversion,  chattering 
like  monkeys.  Can  I  sign  his  death-warrant  who  has  toler- 
ated me  about  his  grounds  so  long  ?  Not  I.  Let  them 
steal  and  welcome.  I  am  sure  I  should,  had  I  the  same 
bringing  up  and  the  same  temptation .  As  for  the  birds,  I 
do  not  believe  there  is  one  of  them  but  does  more  good 
than  harm  ;  and  of  how  many  featherless  bipeds  can  this 

be  Said  ?  James  Russell  Lowell. 


THE    SONG    OF    BIRDS. 

1.  IN  proportion  as  we  have  been  trained  to  be  agree- 
ably affected  by  the  outward   forms  of  nature  and  the 
sounds  that   proceed   from    the   animate   and   inanimate 
world,  are  we  capable  of  being  made  happy  without  resort- 
ing to  expensive  and  vulgar  recreations.     It  ought,  there- 
fore, to  be  one  of  the  chief  points  in  the  education  of 
youth,  while  teaching  them  the  still  more  important  of- 
fices of  humanity,  to  cultivate  and  enliven  their  suscepti- 
bility to  the  charms  of  natural  objects.     Then  would  the 
aspects  of  nature,  continually  changing  with  the  progress 
of  the  seasons  and  the  sounds  that  enliven  their  march,  sat- 
isfy, in  a  great  measure,  that  craving  for  agreeable  sensa. 
tions  which  leads  mankind  away  from  humble  and  health- 
ful pursuits  to  those  of  a  more  artificial  and  exciting  life. 
The  value   of    such  pleasures  consists  not  so   much    in 
their  cheapness  as  in  their    favorable  moral  influences, 
which  improve  the  heart,  while  they  lead  the  mind  to  ob- 
servations that  pleasantly  exercise   and   develop,  without 
tasking  its  powers.     The  quiet  emotions,  half  musical  and 
half  poetical,  which  are  awakened  by  listening  to  the  song 
of  birds,  belong  to  this  class  of  refined  enjoyments. 

2.  But  the  music  of  birds,  though  agreeable  to  all,  con- 
veys positive  and  durable  pleasure  only  to  those  who  have 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  1Y3 

learned  to  associate  with  their  notes,  in  connection  with 
the  scenes  of  nature,  a  thousand  interesting  and  romantic 
images.  To  many  persons  of  this  character  it  affords  more 
delight  than  the  most  brilliant  music  of  the  opera  or  the 
concert.  In  vain,  therefore,  will  it  be  said,  as  an  objec- 
tion, that  the  notes  of  birds  have  no  charm  save  that  which 
is  derived  from  association,  and  that,  considered  as  music, 
they  do  not  equal  that  of  the  most  simple  reed  or  flageolet. 

3.  It  is  sufficient  to  remark  that  the  most  delightful 
influences  of  nature  proceed  from  those  sights  and  sounds 
that  appeal  to  the  imagination  and  affections  through  the 
medium  of  slight  and  almost  insensible  impressions  made 
upon  the  eye  and  ear.     At  the  moment  when  these  physi- 
cal impressions  exceed  a  certain  mean,  the  spell  is  broken, 
and  the  enjoyment  becomes  sensual,  not  intellectual.     How 
soon,  indeed,  would  the  songs  of  birds  lose  their  effect  if 
they  were  loud  and  brilliant,  like  a  band  of  instruments  ! 
It  is  their  simplicity  which  gives  them  their  charm. 

4.  As  a  further  illustration  of  this  point,  it  may  be  re- 
marked that  simple  melodies  have  among  all  people  exer- 
cised a  greater  power  over  the  imagination  than  louder  and 
more  complicated  music.     Nature   employs   a  very  small 
amount  of  physical  sensation  to  create  an  intellectual  pas- 
sion, and  when  an  excess  is  used  a  diminished  effect  is  pro- 
duced.    I  am  persuaded  that  the  effect  of  a  great  part  of 
our  sacred  music  is  lost  by  an  excess  of  harmony  and  a  too 
great  volume  of  sound.     On  the  same,  principle,  a  loud 
crash  of  thunder  deafens  and  terrifies  ;  but  its  low  and  dis- 
tant rumbling  produces  an  agreeable  emotion  of  sublimity. 

5.  The   songs  of  birds    are  as   intimately  allied  with 
poetry  as  with  music.     The  lark  has  been  aptly  denomi- 
nated a  "feathered  lyric"  by  one  of  the  English  poets; 
and  the  analogy  becomes  apparent  when  we  consider  how 
much  the  song  of  a  bird  resembles  a  lyrical  ballad  in  its  in- 
fluence on  the  mind.     Though  it  utters  no  words,  how 


174  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

plainly  it  suggests  a  long  train  of  agreeable  images  of  love, 
beauty,  friendship,  and  home  ! 

6.  The  voice  of  every  singing-bird  has  its  associations 
in  the  minds  of  all  susceptible  persons  who  were  born  and 
nurtured  within  the  precincts  of  its  untutored  minstrelsy. 
The  music  of  birds  is  modulated  in  pleasant  unison  with 
all  the  chords  of  affection  and  imagination,  filling  the  soul 
with  a  lively  consciousness  of  happiness  and  beauty,  and 
soothing  it  with  romantic  visions  of  memory — of  love,  when 
it  was  an  ethereal  sentiment  of  adoration  and  not  a  passion, 
and  of  friendship,  when  it  was  a  passion  and  not  an  expe- 
dience ;  of  dear  and  simple  adventures,  and  of  comrades 
who  had  part  in  them ;  of  dappled  mornings  and  serene 
and  glowing  sunsets,  of  sequestered  nooks  and  mossy  seats 
in  the  old  wood,  of  paths  by  the  riverside  and  flowers  that 
smiled  a  bright  welcome  to  our  rambling,  of  lingering  de- 
partures from  home,  and  of  old  by-ways  overshadowed  by 
trees  and  hedged  with  roses  and  viburnums,  that  spread 
their  shade  and  their  perfume  around  our  path  to  gladden 
our  return.     By  this  pleasant  instrumentality  has  Nature 
provided  for  the  happiness  of  those  who  have  learned  to  be 
delighted  with   the  survey  of  her  works,   and  with  the 
sound  of  those  voices  which  she  has  appointed  to  commu- 
nicate to  the  human  soul  the  joys  of  her  inferior  creation. 

7.  The   singing-birds,   with   reference   to   their  songs, 
may  be  divided  into  four  classes.     First,  the  rapid  singers, 
whose  song  is  uninterrupted,  of  considerable  length,  and 
uttered  with  fervor,  and  in  apparent  ecstasy.     Second,  the 
moderate  singers,  whose  notes  are  slowly  modulated,  but 
without  pauses  or  rests  between   their  different   strains. 
Third,  the  interrupted  singers,  who  seldom  modulate  their 
notes  with  rapidity,  and  make  decided  pauses  between  their 
several  strains,  of  which  there  are  in  general  from  five  to 
eight  or  nine.     Fourth,  the  warblers,  whose  notes  consist 
of  only  one  or  two  strains,  not  combined  into  a  song. 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  175 

8.  The  canary,  among  foreign  birds,  and  the  linnet  and 
bobolink,  among  American  birds,  are  familiar  examples  of 
the  first  class  ;  the  common  robin  and  the  veery  of  the  sec- 
ond ;  the  wood-thrush,  the  cat-bird,  and  the  mocking-bird, 
of  the  third ;  and  the  blue-bird,  the  pewee,  and  the  pur- 
ple martin,  of  the  fourth  class.     It  may  be  added  that 
some  birds  are  nearly  periodical  in  their  habits  of  singing, 
preferring  the  morning  and  evening,  and  occasional  periods 
in  other  parts  of  the  day,  while  others  sing  almost  indiffer- 
ently at  all  hours.     The  greater  number  of  species,  how- 
ever, are  more  tuneful  in  the  early  morning  than  at  any 
other  hour. 

9.  June,  in  this  part  of  the  world,  is  the  most  vocal 
month  of  the  year.     Many  of  our  principal  songsters  do 
not  arrive  until. the  middle  of  May  ;"  and  all,  whether  they 
come  early  or  late,  continue  in  song  throughout  the  month 
of  June.     The  bobolink,  which  is  one  of  the  first  to  be- 
come silent,  continues  vocal  until  the  second  week  in  July. 
So  nearly  simultaneous  is  the  discontinuance  of  the  songs 
of  this  species,  that  it  might  seem  as  if  their  silence  were 
preconcerted,  and  that  by  a  vote  they  had  on  a  certain  day 
adjourned  over  to  another  year. 

10.  If  an  unusually  genial  day  occurs  about  the  seventh 
of  July,  we  may  hear  multitudes  of  them  singing  merrily 
on  that  occasion.     Should  this  time  be  followed  by  two  or 
three  successive  days  of  chilly  and  rainy  weather,  their 
tunefulness  is  so  generally  brought  to  a  close  during  this 
period  that  we  may  not  have  another  musical  note  from  a 
single  individual  after  the  seventh.     The  songs  of  birds 
are  discontinued  as  soon  as  their  care  of  their  oifspring 
has  ceased.     Hence,  those  birds  that  raise  but  one  brood 
of  young  during  the  season,  like  the  bobolink,  are  the  first 
to  become  silent. 

11.  No  one  of  the  New  England  birds  is  an  autumnal 
warbler,  though   the   song-sparrow  often  greets    the  fine 


176  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

mornings  in  October  with  his  lays,  and  the  shore-lark, 
after  spending  the  summer  in  Labrador  and  about  the 
shores  of  Hudson's  Bay,  is  sometimes  heard  in  autumn,  soar- 
ing and  singing  at  the  dawn  of  day,  while  on  their  passage 
to  the  South.  The  bobolink,  the  veery,  or  Wilson's  thrush, 
the  red  thrush,  and  the  golden  robin  are  silent  after  the 
middle  of  July ;  the  wood-thrush,  the  cat-bird,  and  the 
common  robin,  not  until  a  month  later  ;  but  the  song- 
sparrow  alone  continues  to  sing  throughout  the  summer. 
The  tuneful  season  of  the  year  in  New  England  embraces  a 
period  of  about  four  months — from  the  middle  of  April  to 
the  middle  of  August. 

12.  There  are  certain  times  of  the  day,  as  well  as  cer- 
tain seasons  of  the  year,  when  the  birds  are  most  musical. 
The  grand  concert  of  the  feathered  tribe  takes  place  during 
the  hour  between   dawn  and   sunrise.      During  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  they  sing  less  in  Concert,  though  many 
species  are  very  musical  at  noonday,  and  seem,  like  the  noc- 
turnal birds,  to  prefer  the  hour  when   others  are  silent. 
At  sunset  there  is  an  apparent  attempt  to  unite  once  more 
in  chorus,  but  this  is  far  from  being  so  loud  or  so  general 
as  in  the  morning.     The  little  birds  which  I  have  classed 
in  the  fourth  division  are  a  very  important  accompaniment 
to  the  anthem  of  dawn,  their  notes,  though  short,  serving 
agreeably  to  fill  up  the  pauses  made  by  the  other  musicians. 
Thus,  the  hair-bird  has  a  sharp  and  trilling  note,  without 
any  modulation,  and   not  at  all   melodious   when  heard 
alone ;  but  in  the  morning  it  is  the  chief  harmonizer  of 
the  whole  chorus,  and  seems,  more  than  any  other  voice, 
to  give  unity  and  symphony  to  the  multitude  of  miscella- 
neous parts. 

13.  There  are  not  many  birds  whose  notes  could  be  ac- 
curately described  upon  the  gamut.     The  nearest  approach 
we  can  make  to  accuracy  is  to  give  some  general  idea  of 
their  time  and  modulation.     Their  musical  intervals  can  be 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  177 

distinguished  but  with  difficulty,  on  account  of  the  rapid- 
ity of  their  utterance.  I  have  often  attempted  to  transcribe 
some  of  their  notes  upon  the  musical  scale,  but  I  am  per- 
suaded that  such  sketches  can  be  only  approximations  to 
literal  correctness.  As  different  individuals  of  the  same 
species  sing  very  differently,  the  notes  as  transcribed  from 
the  song  of  one  individual  will  never  exactly  represent  the 
song  of  another.  If  we  listen  attentively,  however,  to  a 
number  of  songs,  we  will  detect  in  all  of  them  a  theme,  as  it 
is  termed  by  musicians,  of  which  the  different  individuals 
of  the  species  warble  their  respective  variations.  Every 
song  is,  technically  speaking,  a  fantasia  constructed  upon 
this  theme,  from  which  none  of  the  species  ever  departs. 

/.  Elliot  Cabot. 


LIFE   AND    SONG    IN    THE   WOODS. 

1.  WALKING  the  other  day  in  an  old  hemlock  wood,  I 
counted  over  forty  varieties  of  birds,  though  this  is  an  un- 
usual number  for  a  single  forest.  I  descended  a  hill  and 
approached  the  hemlocks  through  a  large  sugar  -  bush. 
When  twenty  rods  distant,  I  hear  all  along  the  line  of  the 
forest  the  incessant  warble  of  the  red -eyed  fly-catcher,  cheer- 
ful and  happy  as  the  merry  whistle  of  a  school-boy.  He  is 
one  of  our  most  common  and  widely  distributed  birds. 
Approach  any  forest,  at  any  hour  of  the  day,  in  any  kind 
of  weather,  from  May  to  August,  in  any  of  the  middle  or 
eastern  districts,  and  the  chances  are  that  the  first  note 
you  hear  will  be  his.  Eain  or  shine,  before  noon  or  after, 
in  the  deep  forest  or  in  the  village  grove — when  it  is  too 
hot  for  the  thrushes  or  too  cold  and  windy  for  the  war- 
blers— it  is  never  out  of  time  or  place  for  this  little  min- 
strel to  indulge  his  cheerful  strain. 


178  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

2.  There  is  nothing  plaintive  or  especially  musical  in 
his  performance,  but  the  sentiment  expressed  is  eminently 
that  of  cheerfulness.     Indeed,  the  songs  of  most  birds  have 
some  human  significance,  which,  I  think,  is  the  source  of 
the  delight  we  take  in  them.     The  song  of  the  bobolink, 
to   me,  expresses  hilarity  ;  the  song-sparrow's,  faith  ;  the 
bluebird's,  love ;  the  cat-bird's,  pride  ;  the  white-eyed  fly- 
catcher's,  self -consciousness ;    that  of  the  hermit-thrush, 
spiritual  serenity  ;  while  there  is  something  military  in  the 
call  of  the  robin,  and  unalloyed  contentment  in  the  warble 
of  the  red-eyed  vireo. 

3.  Passing    down    through  the   maple   arches,  barely 
pausing  to  observe  the  antics  of  a  trio  of  squirrels — two 
gray  ones  and  a  black  one — 1  cross  an  ancient  brush-fence 
and  am  fairly  within  the  old  hemlocks,  and  in  one  of  the 
most  primitive,  undisturbed  nooks.     In  the  deep  inoss  I 
tread  as  with  muffled  feet,  and  the  pupils  of  my  eyes  dilate 
in  the  dim,  almost  religious  light.      The  irreverent  red 
squirrels,  however,  run   and    snicker  at  my  approach,  or 
mock  the  solitude  with   their  ridiculous  chattering  and 
frisking. 

4.  This  nook  is  the  chosen  haunt  of  the  winter  wren. 
This  is  the  only  place,  and  these  are  the  only  woods,  in 
which  I  find  him  in  this  vicinity.     His  voice  fills  these  dim 
aisles,  as  if  aided  by  some  marvelous  sounding-board.     In- 
deed, his  song  is  very  strong  for  so  small  a  bird,  and  unites 
in  a  remarkable  degree  brilliancy  and  plaintiveness.    I  think 
of  a  tremulous,  vibrating  tongue  of  silver.     You  may  know 
that  it  is  the  song  of  a  wren  from  its  gushing,  lyrical  char- 
acter ;  but  you  must  needs  look  sharp  to  see  the  little  min- 
strel, especially  while  in  the  act  of  singing.    He  is  nearly  the 
color  of  the  ground  and  the  leaves  ;  he  never  ascends  the 
tall  trees,  but  keeps  low,  flitting  from  stump  to  stump, 
and  from  root  to  root,  dodging  in  and  out  of  his  hiding- 
places,  and  watching  all  intruders  with  a  suspicious  eye. 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS. 


179 


He  has  a  very  perk,  almost  comical  look.  His  tail  stands 
more  than  perpendicular  ;  it  points  straight  toward  his 
head.  He  is  the  least  ostentatious  singer  I  know  of.  He 
does  not  strike  an  attitude  and  lift  up  his  head  in  prepara- 


A  Forest  Warbler. 

tion,  and,  as  it  were,  clear  his  throat ;  but  he  sits  there  on 
the  log  and  pours  out  his  music,  looking  straight  before  him, 
or  even  down  at  the  ground. 

5.  I  am  attracted  by  another  warble  in  the  same  locality, 
and  experience  a  like  difficulty  in  getting  a  good  view  of 


180  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  author  of  it.  It  is  quite  a  noticeable  strain,  sharp  and 
sibilant,  and  sounds  well  amid  the  old  trees.  In  the  up- 
land woods  of  beech  and  maple  it  is  a  more  familiar  sound 
than  in  these  solitudes.  On  taking  the  bird  in  your  hand, 
even  if  you  are  not  a  young  lady,  you  will  probably  ex- 
claim, "  How  beautiful ! "  So  tiny  and  elegant,  the  small- 
est of  the  warblers  ;  a  delicate  blue  back,  with  a  slight, 
bronze-colored,  triangular  spot  between  the  shoulders  ;  up- 
per mandible  black  ;  lower  mandible  yellow  as  gold  ;  throat 
yellow,  becoming  a  dark  bronze  on  the  breast.  Blue  yel- 
low-back he  is  called,  though  the  yellow  is  much  nearer  a 
bronze.  He  is  remarkably  delicate  and  beautiful  —  the 
handsomest,  as  he  is  the  smallest,  of  the  warblers  known  to 
me.  It  is  never  without  surprise  that  I  find  amid  these 
rugged,  savage  aspects  of  nature,  creatures  so  fairy  and 
delicate.  But  such  is  the  law.  Go  to  the  sea  or  climb 
the  mountain,  and  with  the  ruggedest  and  the  savagest  you 
will  find  likewise  the  fairest  and  the  most  delicate.  The 
greatness  and  the  minuteness  of  nature  pass  all  understand- 
ing. 

6.  In  a  little  opening  quite  free  from  brush  and  trees  I 
step  down  to  bathe  my  hands  in  the  brook,  when  a  small, 
light,  slate-colored  bird  flutters  out  of  the  bank,  not  three  feet 
from  my  head,  as  I  stoop  down,  and,  as  if  severely  lamed 
or  injured,  flutters  through  the  grass  and  into  the  nearest 
bush.     As  I  do  not  follow,  but  remain  near  the  nest,  she 
chips  sharply,  which  brings  the  male,  and  I  see  it  is  the 
speckled  Canada  warbler.     I  find  no  authority  in  the  books 
for  this  bird  to  build  upon  the  ground,  yet  here  is  the  nest, 
made  chiefly  of  dry  grass,  set  in  a  slight  excavation  in  the 
bank,  not  two  feet  from  the  water, .  and  looking  a  little 
perilous  to  anything  but  ducklings  or  sandpipers. 

7.  There  are  two  young  birds  and  one  little  speckled 
egg,  just  pipped.     But  how  is  this  ?  what  mystery  is  here  ? 
One  nestling  is  much  larger  than  the  other,  monopolizes 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  181 

most  of  the  nest,  and  lifts  its  open  mouth  far  above  that  of 
its  companion,  though  obviously  both  are  of  the  same  age, 
not  more  than  a  day  old.  Ah  !  I  see — the  old  trick  of  the 
cow-bunting,  with  a  stinging  human  significance.  Taking 
the  interloper  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  I  deliberately  drop 
it  into  the  water,  but  not  without  a  pang,  as  I  see  its 
naked  form,  convulsed  with  chills,  float  down  the  stream. 
Cruel !  So  is  nature  cruel.  I  take  one  life  to  save  two. 
In  less  than  two  days  this  pot-bellied  intruder  would  have 
caused  the  death  of  the  two  rightful  occupants  of  the  nest ; 
so  I  step  in  and  divert  things  into  their  proper  channel 
again. 

8.  It  is  a  singular  freak  of  nature,  this  instinct  which 
prompts  one  bird  to  lay  its  eggs  in  the  nests  of  others,  and 
thus  shirk  the  responsibility  of  rearing  its  own  young. 
The  cow-buntings  always  resort  to  this  cunning  trick,  and, 
when  one  reflects  upon  their  numbers,  it  is  evident  that 
these  little  tragedies  are  quite  frequent.     In  Europe  the 
parallel  case  is  that  of  the  cuckoo,  and  occasionally  our  own 
cuckoo  imposes  upon  a  robin  or  a  thrush  in  the  same  man- 
ner.    The  cow-bunting  seems  to  have  no  conscience  about 
the  matter,  and,  so  far  as  I  have  observed,  invariably  se- 
lects the  nest  of  a  bird  smaller  than  itself.     Its  egg  is  usu- 
ally the  first  to  hatch ;  its  young  overreaches  all  the  rest 
when  food  is   brought ;    it  grows  with    great    rapidity, 
spreads  and  fills  the  nest,  and  the  starved  and  crowded  oc- 
cupants soon  perish,  when  the  parent  bird  removes  their 
dead  bodies,  giving  its  whole  energy  and  care  to  the  foster- 
child. 

9.  The  warblers  and  smaller  fly-catchers  are  generally 
the  sufferers,    though   I  sometimes   see  the  slate-colored 
snow-bird  unconsciously  duped  in  like  manner ;  and  the 
other  day,  in  a  tall  tree  in  the  woods,  I  discovered  the 
black-throated,  green-backed  warbler  devoting  itself  to  this 
dusky,  overgrown  foundling.     An  old  farmer  to  whom  I 


182  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

pointed  out  the  fact  was  much  surprised  that  such  things 
should  happen  in  his  woods  without  his  knowledge. 

10.  Ever  since  I  entered  the  woods,  even  while  listening 
to  the  lesser  songsters,  or  contemplating  the  silent  forms 
about  me,  a  strain  has  reached  my  ear  from  out  the  depths 
of  the  forest  that  to  me  is  the  finest  sound  in  nature — the 
song  of  the  hermit-thrush.     I  often  hear  him  thus  a  long 
way  off — sometimes  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  when 
only  the  stronger  and  more  perfect  parts  of  his  music  reach 
me  ;  and  through  the  general  chorus  of  wrens  and  warblers 
I  detect  this  sound  rising  pure  and  serene,  as  if  a  spirit 
from  some  remote  height  were  slowly  chanting  a  divine 
accompaniment.      This  song  appeals  to  the  sentiment  of 
the  beautiful  in  me,  and  suggests  a  serene,  religious  beati- 
tude as  no  other  sound  in  nature  does.    It  is,  perhaps,  more 
of  an  evening  than  a  morning  hymn,  though  I  hear  it  at 
all  hours  of  the  day.     It  is  very  simple,  and  I  can  hardly 
tell  the  secret  of  its  charm.      "0  spheral,  spheral  !"  he 
seems  to  say  ;  "0  holy,  holy  !     0  clear  away,  clear  away  ! 
0  clear  up,  clear  up  ! "  interspersed  with  the  finest  trills 
and  the  most  delicate  preludes. 

11.  It  is  not  a  proud,  gorgeous  strain,  like  the  tanager's 
or  the  grosbeak's  ;  suggests  no  passion  or  emotion — nothing 
personal — but  seems  to  be  the  voice  of  that  calm,  sweet  so- 
lemnity one  attains  to  in  his  best  moments.     It  realizes  a 
peace  and  a  deep,  solemn  joy  that  only  the  finest  souls  may 
know.     A  few  nights  ago  I  ascended  a  mountain  to  see  the 
world  by  moonlight ;  and  when  near  the  summit  the  her- 
mit commenced  his  evening  hymn  a  few  rods  from  me. 
Listening  to  this  strain  on  the  lone  mountain,  with  the 
full  moon  just  rounded  from  the  horizon,  the  pomp  of 
your  cities  and  the  pride  of  your  civilization  seemed  trivial 
and  cheap. 

12.  But  the  declining  sun  and  the  deepening  shadows 
admonish  me  that  this  ramble  must  be  brought  to  a  close. 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  183 

In  a  secluded,  swampy  corner  of  the  old  barkpeeling,  where 
I  find  the  great  purple  orchis  in  bloom,  and  where  the  foot 
of  man  or  beast  seems  never  to  have  trod,  I  linger  long,  con- 
templating the  wonderful  display  of  lichens  and  mosses  that 
overrun  both  the  smaller  and  the  larger  growths.  Every 
bush  and  branch  and  sprig  is  dressed  up  in  the  most  rich 
and  fantastic  of  liveries  ;  and,  crowning  all,  the  long, 
bearded  moss  festoons  the  branches  or  sways  gracefully 
from  the  limbs.  Every  twig  looks  a  century  old,  though 
green  leaves  tip  the  end  of  it.  A  young  yellow  birch  has  a 
venerable,  patriarchal  look,  and  seems  ill  at  ease  under 
such  premature  honors.  A  decayed  hemlock  is  draped  as 
if  by  hands  for  some  solemn  festival. 

13.  Mounting  toward  the  upland  again,  I  pause  rever- 
ently as  the  hush  and  stillness  of  twilight  come  upon  the 
woods.  It  is  the  sweetest,  ripest  hour  of  the  day.  And,  as 
the  hermit's  evening  hymn  goes  up  from  the  deep  solitude 
below  me,  I  experience  that  serene  exaltation  of  sentiment 
of  which  music,  literature,  and  religion  are  but  the  faint 
types  and  symbols.  Mn  Burroug^ 


BIRD  LIFE  AND  MOTION. 

1.  WHEX  one  thinks  of  a  bird,  one  fancies  a  soft,  swift, 
aimless,  joyous  thing,  full  of  nervous  energy  and  arrowy 
motions,  a  song  with  wings.  So  remote  from  ours  their 
mode  of  existence,  they  seem  accidental  exiles  from  an  un- 
known globe,  banished  where  none  can  understand  their 
language  ;  and  men  only  stare  at  their  darting,  inexpli- 
cable ways,  as  at  the  gyrations  of  the  circus.  Watch  their 
little  traits  for  hours,  and  it  only  tantalizes  curiosity. 
Every  man's  secret  is  penetrable,  if  his  neighbor  be  sharp- 
sighted.  But  this  bird  that  hovers  and  alights  beside  me, 


184  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

peers  up  at  me,  takes  its  food,  then  looks  again,  attitudiniz- 
ing, jerking,  flirting  its  tail,  with  a  thousand  inquisitive 
and  fantastic  motions,  although  I  have  power  to  grasp  it  in 
my  hand  and  crush  its  life  out,  yet  I  can  not  gain  its  secret 
thus,  and  the  center  of  its  consciousness  is  really  farther 
from  mine  than  the  remotest  planetary  orbit.  "We  do 
not  steadily  bear  in  mind,"  says  Darwin,  with  a  noble  sci- 
entific humility,  "how  profoundly  ignorant  we  are  of  the 
condition  of  existence  of  every  animal." 

2.  What  "sympathetic  penetration"  can  fathom  the 
life,  for  instance,  of  yonder  mysterious,  almost  voiceless 
humming-bird,  smallest  of  feathery  things,  and  loneliest, 
whirring  among  birds,  insect-like,  and  among  insects,  bird- 
like,  his  path  untraceable,  his  home  unseen  ?    An  image 
of  airy  motion,  yet  it  sometimes  seems  as  if  there  were 
nothing  joyous  in  him.     He  seems  like  some  exiled  pygmy 
prince,  banished,  but  still  regal,  and  doomed  to  wings. 
Did  gems  turn  to  flowers,  flowers  to  feathers,  in  that  long- 
past  dynasty  of  the  humming-birds  ?    It  is  strange  to  come 
upon  his  tiny  nest,  in  some  gray  and  tangled  swamp,  with 
this  brilliant  atom  perched  disconsolately  near  it,  upon 
some  mossy  twig ;  it  is  like  visiting  Cinderella  among  her 
ashes.     And  from  humming-bird  to  eagle,  the  daily  exist- 
ence of  every  bird  is  a  remote  and  bewitching  mystery. 

3.  Pythagoras  has  been  charged,  both  before  and  since 
the  days  of  Malvolio,  with  holding  that  "the  soul  of  our 
grandam  might  haply  inhabit  a  fowl,"   that   delinquent 
men  must  revisit  earth  as  women,  and  delinquent  women  as 
birds.     Malvolio  thought  nobly  of  the  soul,  and  in  no  way 
approved  his  opinion  ;  but  I  remember  that  Harriet  Rohan, 
in  her  school-days,  accepted  this,  her  destiny,  with  glee. 
"When  I  saw  the  oriole,"  she  wrote  to  me,  "from  his  nest 
among  the  plum-trees  in  the  garden,  sail  over  the  air  and 
high  above  the  Gothic  arches  of  the  elm,  a  stream  of  flash- 
ing light,  or  watched  him  swinging  silently  on  pendent 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  185 

twigs,  I  did  not  dream  how  near  akin  we  were.  Or  when 
a  humming-bird,  a  winged  drop  of  gorgeous  sheen  and 
gloss,  a  living  gem,  poising  on  his  wings,  thrust  his  dark, 
slender,  honey-seeking  bill  into  the  white  blossoms  of  a 
little  bush  beside  my  window,  I  should  have  thought  it  no 
such  bad  thing  to  be  a  bird,  even  if  one  next  became  a 
bat,  like  the  colony  in  our  eaves,  that  dart  and  drop  and 
skim  and  skurry,  all  the  length  of  moonless  nights,  in  such 
ecstasies  of  dusky  joy."  Was  this  weird  creature,  the  bat, 
in  very  truth  a  bird,  in  some  far  primeval  time  ?  and  does 
he  fancy,  in  unquiet  dreams  at  nightfall,  that  he  is  one 
still  ?  I  wonder  whether  he  can  enjoy  the  winged  brother- 
hood into  which  he  has  thrust  himself — victim,  perhaps,  of 
some  rash  quadruped-ambition — an  Icarus  doomed  for  ever 
not  to  fall. 

4.  I  think  that,  if  required,  on  pain  of  death,  to  name 
instantly  the  most  perfect  thing  in  the  universe,  I  should 
risk  my  fate  on  a  bird's  egg.  There  is,  first,  its  exquisite 
fragility  of  material,  strong  only  by  the  mathematical  pre- 
cision of  that  form  so  daintily  molded.  There  is  its  abso- 
lute purity  from  external  stain,  since  that  thin  barrier 
remains  impassable  until  the  whole  is  in  ruins — a  purity 
recognized  in  the  household  proverb  of  "An  apple,  an  egg, 
and  a  nut. " 

•5.  Then,  its  range  of  tints,  so  varied,  so  subdued,  and 
so  beautiful,  whether  of  pure  white,  like  the  martin's,  or 
pure  green,  like  the  robin's,  or  dotted  and  mottled  into 
the  loveliest  of  browns,  like  the  red  thrush's,  or  aqua  ma- 
rine, with  stains  of  moss-agate,  like  the  chipping  sparrow's, 
or  blotched  with  long,  weird  ink-marks  on  a  pale  ground, 
like  the  oriole's,  as  if  it  bore  inscribed  some  magic  clew  to 
the  bird's  darting  flight  and  pensile  nest.  Above  all,  the 
associations  and  predictions  of  this  little  wonder,  that  one 
may  bear  home  between  his  fingers  all  that  winged  splen- 
dor, all  that  celestial  melody,  coiled  in  mystery  within 


186  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

these  tiny  walls  !  Even  the  chrysalis  is  less  amazing,  for 
its  form  always  preserves  some  trace,  however  fantastic,  of 
the  perfect  insect,  and  it  is  but  molting  a  skin ;  but  this 
egg  appears  to  the  eye  like  a  separate  unit  from  some  other 
kingdom  of  nature,  claiming  more  kindred  with  the  very 
stones  than  with  feathery  existence  ;  and  it  is  as  if  a  pearl 
opened  and  an  angel  sang. 

6.  The  nest  which  is  to  contain  these  fair  things  is  a 
wondrous  study  also,  from  the  coarse  masonry  of  the  robin 
to  the  soft  structure  of  the  humming-bird,  a  baby-house 
among  nests.     Among  all  created  things,  the  birds  come 
nearest  to  man  in  their  domesticity.     Their  unions  are 
usually  in  pairs,  and  for  life ;  and  with  them,  unlike  the 
practice  of  most  quadrupeds,  the  male  labors  for  the  young. 
He  chooses  the  locality  of  the  nest,  aids  in  its  construc- 
tion, and  rights  for  it,  if  needful.     He  sometimes  assists  in 
hatching  the  eggs.     He  feeds  the  brood  with  exhausting 
labor,  like  yonder  robin,  whose  winged  picturesque  day  is 
spent  in  putting  worms  into  insatiable  beaks,  at  the  rate  of 
one  morsel  in  every  three  minutes.     He  has  to  teach  them 
to  fly,  as  among  the  swallows,  or  even  to  hunt,  as  among 
the  hawks.     His  life  is  anchored  to  his  home. 

7.  Yonder  oriole  fills  with  light  and  melody  the  thou- 
sand branches  of  a  neighborhood ;  and  yet  the  center  for 
all  this  divergent  splendor   is  always  that  one  drooping 
dome  upon  one  chosen  tree.     This  he  helped  to  build  in 
May,  confiscating  cotton  as  if  he  were  a  Union  provost-mar- 
shal, and  singing  many  songs,  with  his  mouth  full  of  plun- 
der ;  and  there  he  watches  over  his  household,  all  through 
the  leafy  June,  perched  often  upon  the  airy  cradle-edge, 
and  swaying  with  it  in  the  summer  wind.     And  from  this 
deep  nest,  after  the  pretty  eggs  are  hatched,  will  he  and 
his  mate  extract  every  fragment  of  the  shell,  leaving  it, 
like  all  other  nests,  save  those  of  birds  of  prey,  clean  and 
pure,  when  the  young  are  flown.     This  they  do  chiefly 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  187 

from  an  instinct  of  delicacy,  since  wood-birds  are  not 
wont  to  use  the  same  nest  a  second  time,  even  if  they  rear 
several  broods  in  a  season. 

8.  In  comparing  modes  of  flight,  the  most  surprising, 
of  course,  is  that  of  the  swallow  tribe,  remarkable  not 
merely  for  its  velocity,  but  for  the  amazing  boldness  and 
instantaneousness  of  the  angles  it  makes  ;  so  that  eminent 
European  mechanicians  have  speculated  in  vain  upon  the 
methods  used  in  its  locomotion,  and  prizes  have  been  of- 
fered, by  mechanical  exhibitions,  to  him  who  could  best 
explain  it.     With  impetuous  dash,  they  sweep  through  our 
perilous  streets,  these  wild  hunters  of  the  air,  "so  near, 
and  yet  so  far " ;  they  bathe  flying,  and  flying  they  feed 
their  young.      In   my  immediate  vicinity,  the   chimney- 
swallow  is  not  now  common,  nor  the  sand-swallow ;   but 
the  cliff-swallow,  that  strange  emigrant  from  the  far  West, 
the  barn-swallow,  and  the  white-breasted  species,  are  abun- 
dant, together  with  the  purple  martin. 

9.  I  know  no  prettier  sight  than  a  bevy  of  these  bright 
little  creatures,  met  from  a  dozen  different  farm-houses  to 
picnic  at  a  wayside  pool,  splashing  and  fluttering,  with 
their  long  wings  expanded  like  butterflies,  keeping  poised 
by  a  constant  hovering  motion,  just  tilting  upon  their  feet, 
which  scarcely  touch  the  moist  ground.     You  will  seldom 
see  them  actually  perch  on  anything  less  airy  than  some 
telegraph-wire ;  but,  when  they  do  alight,  each  will  make 
chatter  enough  for  a  dozen,  as  if  all  the  r.ushing  hurry  of 
the  wings  had  passed  into  the  tongue. 

10.  Between  the  swiftness  of  the  swallow  and  the  state- 
liness  of  the  birds  of  prey,  the  whole  range  of  bird  motion 
seems  included.     The  long  wave  of  a  hawk's  wings  seems 
almost  to  send  a  slow  vibration  through  the  atmosphere, 
tolling  upon  the  eye  as  yon  distant  bell  upon  the  ear.     I 
never  was  more  impressed  with  the  superior  dignity  of 
these  soarings  than  in  observing  a  bloodless  contest  in  the 


188  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

air  last  April.  Standing  beside  a  little  grove,  on  a  rocky 
hillside,  I  heard  crows  cawing  near  by,  and  then  a  sound 
like  great  flies  buzzing,  which  I  really  attributed,  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  some  early  insect.  Turning,  I  saw  two  crows 
flapping  their  heavy  wings  among  the  trees,  and  observed 
that  they  were  teasing  a  hawk  about  as  large  as  themselves, 
which  was  also  on  the  wing. 

11.  Presently  all  three  had  risen  above  the  branches, 
and  were  circling  higher  and  higher  in  a  slow  spiral.  The 
crows  kept  constantly  swooping  at  their  enemy,  with  the 
same  angry  buzz,  one  of  the  two  taking  decidedly  the  lead. 
They  seldom  struck  at  him  with  their  beaks,  but  kept  lum- 
bering against  him,  and  flapping  him  with  their  wings,  as 
if  in  a  fruitless  effort  to  capsize  him,  while  the  hawk  kept 
carelessly  eluding  the  assaults,  now  inclining  on  one  side, 
now  on  the  other,  with  a  stately  grace,  never  retaliating, 
but  seeming  rather  to  enjoy  the  novel  amusement,  as  if  it 
were  a  skirmish  in  balloons.  During  all  this,  indeed,  he 
scarcely  seemed  once  to  wave  his  wings ;  yet  he  soared 
steadily  aloft,  till  the  crows  refused  to  follow,  though  al- 
ready higher  than  I  ever  saw  crows  before,  dim  against  the 
fleecy  sky ;  then  the  hawk  flew  northward,  but  soon  after 
he  sailed  over  us  once  again,  with  loud,  scornful  chirr, 
and  they  only  cawed,  and  left  him  undisturbed. 

Atlantic  Monthly. 


BIRDS    IN    AUTUMN. 

1.  AFTEK  July,  most  of  our  birds  grow  silent,  and,  but 
for  the  insects,  August  would  be  almost  the  stillest  month 
in  the  year — stiller  than  the  winter,  when  the  woods  are 
often  vocal  with  the  crow,  the  jay,  and  the  chickadee. 
But  with  patient  attention  one  may  hear,  even  far  into 
the  autumn,  the  accustomed  notes.  As  I  sat  in  my  boat, 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  189 

one  sunny  afternoon  of  last  September,  beneath  the  shady 
western  shore  of  our  quiet  lake,  with  the  low  sunlight  strik- 
ing almost  level  across  the  wooded  banks,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  last  hoarded  drops  of  summer's  sweetness  were  being 
poured  over  all  the  world.  The  air  was  full  of  quiet  sounds. 
Turtles  rustled  beside  the  brink  and  slid  into  the  water ; 
cows  plashed  in  the  shallows  ;  fishes  leaped  from  the  placid 
depths ;  a  squirrel  sobbed  and  fretted  on  a  neighboring 
stump  ;  a  katydid  across  the  lake  maintained  its  hard,  dry 
croak ;  the  crickets  chirped  pertinaciously,  but  with  little 
fatigued  pauses,  as  if  glad  that  their  work  was  almost  done  ; 
the  grasshoppers  kept  up  their  continual  chant,  which 
seemed  thoroughly  melted  and  amalgamated  into  the  sum- 
mer, as  if  it  would  go  on  indefinitely,  though  the  body  of 
the  little  creature  were  dried  into  dust. 

2.  All  this  time  the  birds  were  silent  and  invisible,  as 
if  they  would  take  no  more  part  in  the  symphony  of  the 
year.     Then,  as  if  by  preconcerted  signal,  they  joined  in  : 
crows  cawed  anxiously  afar  ;  jays  screamed  in  the  woods  ; 
a  partridge  clucked  to  its  brood,  like  the  gurgle  of  water 
from  a  bottle ;  a  kingfisher  wound  his  rattle,  more  briefly 
than  in  spring,  as  if  we  now  knew  all  about  it  and  the 
merest  hint  ought  to  suffice  ;  a  fish-hawk  flapped  into  the 
water,  with  a  great,  rude  splash,  and  then  flew  heavily 
away ;  a  flock  of  wild  ducks  went  southward  overhead,  and 
a  smaller  party  returned  beneath  them,  flying  low  and  anx- 
iously, as  if  to  pick  up  some  lost  baggage  ;  and,  at  last, 
a  loon  laughed  loud  from  behind  a  distant  island,  and  it 
was  pleasant  to  people  these  woods  and  waters  with  that 
wild  shouting,  linking  them  with  Katahdin  Lake  and  Am- 
perzand. 

3.  But  the  later  the  birds  linger  in  the  autumn,  the 
more  their  aspect  differs  from  that  of  spring.     In  spring, 
they  come,  jubilant,  noisy,  triumphant,  from  the  South, 
the  winter  conquered  and  the  long  journey  done.     In  au- 


190  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

tumn,  they  come  timidly  from  the  North,  and,  pausing 
on  their  anxious  retreat,  lurk  within  the  fading  copses  and 
twitter  snatches  of  song  as  fading.  Others  fly  as  openly  as 
ever,  but  gather  in  flocks,  as  the  robins,  most  piteous  of  all 
birds  at  this  season — thin,  faded,  ragged,  their  bold  note 
sunk  to  a  feeble  quaver,  and  their  manner  a  mere  carica- 
ture of  that  inexpressible  military  smartness  with  which 
they  held  up  their  heads  in  May. 

4.  Yet  I  can  not  really  find  anything  sad  even  in  No- 
vember. When  I  think  of  the  thrilling  beauty  of  the  sea- 
son past,  the  birds  that  came  and  went,  the  insects  that 
took  up  the  choral  song  as  the  birds  grew  silent,  the  pro- 
cession of  the  flowers,  the  glory  of  autumn,  and  when  I 
think  that,  this  also  ended,  a  new  gallery  of  wonder  is 
opening,  almost  more  beautiful,  in  the  magnificence  of 
frost  and  snow,  there  comes  an  impression  of  affluence  and 
liberality  in  the  universe,  which  seasons  of  changeless  and 
uneventful  verdure  would  never  give.  The  catkins  already 
formed  on  the  alder,  quite  prepared  to  droop  into  April's 
beauty ;  the  white  edges  of  the  May-flower's  petals,  already 
visible  through  the  bud — show  in  advance  that  winter  is 
but  a  slight  and  temporary  retardation  of  the  life  of  nature, 
and  that  the  barrier  which  separates  November  from  March 
is  not  really  more  solid  than  that  which  parts  the  sunset 
from  the  sunrise.  Atiardic  Monthly 


ROBERT   OF    LINCOLN. 

MEKRILY  swinging  on  brier  and  weed, 
Near  to  the  nest  of  his  little  dame, 

Over  the  mountain-side  or  mead, 

Robert  of  Lincoln  is  telling  his  name  : 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  191 

Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 

Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Snug  and  safe  is  that  nest  of  ours, 
Hidden  among  the  summer  flowers. 
Ghee,  chee,  chee. 

2.  Robert  of  Lincoln  is  gayly  drest, 

Wearing  a  bright  black  wedding-coat ; 
White  are  his  shoulders  and  white  his  crest. 
Hear  him  call  in  his  merry  note  : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink  ; 
Look,  what  a  nice  new  coat  is  mine, 
Sure  there  was  never  a  bird  so  fine. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

3.  Robert  of  Lincoln's  Quaker  wife, 

Pretty  and  quiet,  with  plain  brown  wings, 
Passing  at  home  a  patient  life, 

Broods  in  the  grass  while  her  husband  sings : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Brood,  kind  creature  ;  you  need  not  fear 
Thieves  and  robbers  while  I  am  here. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

4.  Modest  and  shy  as  a  nun  is  she  ;  m 

One  weak  chirp  is  her  only  note. 
Braggart  and  prince  of  braggarts  is  he, 
Pouring  boasts  from  his  little  throat : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink  ; 
Never  was  I  afraid  of  man ; 
Catch  me,  cowardly  knaves,  if  you  can ! 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 


192  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

5.  Six  white  eggs  on  a  bed  of  hay, 

Flecked  with  purple,  a  pretty  sight 


Bobolink. 


There  as  the  mother  sits  all  day, 
Robert  is  singing  with  all  his  might 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  193 

Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 

Spink,  spank,  spink  ; 
Nice  good  wife,  that  never  goes  out, 
Keeping  house  while  I  frolic  about. 
Ghee,  chee,  chee. 

6.  Soon  as  the  little  ones  chip  the  shell, 

Six  wide  mouths  are  open  for  food  ; 
Eobert  of  Lincoln  bestirs  him  well, 
Gathering  seeds  for  the  hungry  brood. 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink  ; 
This  new  life  is  likely  to  be 
Hard  for  a  gay  young  fellow  like  me. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

7.  Robert  of  Lincoln  at  length  is  made 

Sober  with  work,  and  silent  with  care  ; 
Off  is  his  holiday  garment  laid, 
Half  forgotten  that  merry  air  : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink  ; 
Nobody  knows  but  my  mate  and  I 
Where  our  nest  and  our  nestlings  lie. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

8.  Summer  wanes  ;  the  children  are.  grown  ; 

Fun  and  frolic  no  more  he  knows  ; 
Robert  of  Lincoln's  a  humdrum  crone  ; 
Off  he  flies,  and  we  sing  as  he  goes  : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
When  you  can  pipe  that  merry  old  strain,- 
Robert  of  Lincoln,  come  back  again. 

Chee,  chee,  chee.  Bryant. 


194  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


THE  MOCKING-BIRD. 

1.  AMONG  the  many  novelties  which  the  discovery  of 
this  part  of  the  western  continent  first  brought  into  notice 
we  may  reckon  that  of  the  mocking-bird,  which  is  not  only 
peculiar  to  the  new  world,  but  inhabits  a  very  considerable 
extent  of  both   North  and   South  America,  having  been 
traced  from  the  States  of  New  England  to  Brazil,  and  also 
among  many  of  the  adjacent  islands.     These  birds  are, 
however,  much  more  numerous  in  those  States  south  than 
in  those  north  of  the  river  Delaware,  being  generally  mi- 
gratory in  the  latter,  and  resident  in  the  former.     A  warm 
climate,  and  low  country,  not  far  from  the  sea,  seem  most 
congenial  to  their  nature  ;  accordingly,  we  find  the  species 
less  numerous  to  the  west  than  east  of  the  great  range  of 
the  Alleghany,  in  the  same  parallels  of  latitude.     The  ber- 
ries of  the  red  cedar,  myrtle,  holly,  cassine  shrub,  many 
species  of  smilax,  together  with  gum-berries,  gall-berries, 
and  a  profusion  of  others  with  which  the  luxuriant  swampy 
thickets  of  those  regions  abound,  furnish  them  with  a  per- 
petual feast.     Winged  insects,  also,  of  which  they  are  very 
fond,  and  remarkably  expert  at  catching,  abound  there 
even  in  winter,  and  are  an  additional  inducement  to  resi- 
dency.    Though  rather  a  shy  bird  in  the  Northern  States, 
in  the  South  he  appeared  almost  half  domesticated,  feeding 
on  the  cedars  and  among  the  thickets  of  smilax  that  lined 
the  roads,  while  I  passed  within  a  few  feet ;  playing  around 
the  planter's  door,  and  hopping  along  the  shingles. 

2.  The  precise  time  at  which  the  mocking-bird  begins 
to  build  his  nest  varies  according  to  the  latitude  in  which 
he  resides.     There  are  particular  situations  to  which  he 
gives  the  preference.     A  solitary  thorn-bush,  an  almost  im- 
penetrable thicket,  an  orange-tree,  cedar-  or  holly-bush, 
are  favorite  spots,  and  frequently  selected.     It  is  no  great 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  195 

objection  with  him  that  these  happen,  sometimes,  to  be 
near  the  farm-  or  mansion-house  :  always  ready  to  defend, 
but  never  over-anxious  to  conceal,  his  nest,  he  very  often 
builds  within  a  small  distance  of  the  house,  and  not  un- 
frequently  in  a  pear  or  apple  tree  ;  rarely  at  a  greater 
height  than  six  or  seven  feet  from  the  ground.  The  nest 
varies  a  little  with  different  individuals,  according  to  the 
conveniency  of  collecting  suitable  materials.  A  very  com- 
plete one  is  now  lying  before  me,  and  is  composed  of  the 
following  substances  :  First,  a  quantity  of  dry  twigs  and 
sticks  ;  then  withered  tops  of  weeds  of  the  preceding  year, 
intermixed  with  fine  straws,  hay,  pieces  of  wool  and  tow ; 
and,  lastly,  a  thick  layer  of  fine  fibrous  roots,  of  a  light- 
brown  color,  lines  the  whole.  The  eggs  are  four,  sometimes 
five,  of  a  cinereous  blue,  marked  with  large  blotches  of  brown. 
The  female  sits  fourteen  days,  and  generally  produces  two 
broods  in  the  season,  unless  robbed  of  her  eggs,  in  which 
case  she  will  even  build  and  lay  the  third  time.  She  is, 
however,  extremely  jealous  of  her  nest,  and  very  apt  to 
forsake  it  if  much  disturbed.  It  is  even  asserted  by  some 
of  our  bird  dealers  that  the  old  ones  will  actually  destroy 
the  eggs,  and  poison  the  young,  if  either  the  one  or  the 
other  have  been  handled.  But  I  can  not  give  credit  to 
this  unnatural  report.  I  know,  from  my  own  experience, 
at  least,  that  it  is  not  always  their  practice  ;  neither  have  I 
ever  witnessed  a  case  of  the  kind  above  mentioned. 

3.  During  the  period  of  incubation/ neither  cat,  dog, 
animal,  or  man  can  approach  the  nest  without  being  at- 
tacked. The  cats,  in  particular,  are  persecuted  whenever 
they  make  their  appearance,  till  obliged  to  retreat.  But 
his  whole  vengeance  is  most  particularly  directed  against 
that  mortal  enemy  of  his  eggs  and  young,  the  black-snake. 
Whenever  the  insidious  approaches  of  this  reptile  are  dis- 
covered, the  male  darts  upon  it  with  the  rapidity  of  an 
arrow,  dexterously  eluding  its  bite,  and  striking  it  violently 


196  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

and  incessantly  about  the  head,  where  it  is  very  vulnerable. 
The  snake  soon  becomes  sensible  of  its  danger,  and  seeks 
to  escape  ;  but  the  intrepid  defender  of  his  young  redoubles 
his  exertions,  and,  unless  his  antagonist  be  of  great  magni- 
tude, often  succeeds  in  destroying  him.  All  its  pretended 
powers  of  fascination  avail  it  nothing  against  the  vengeance 
of  this  noble  bird.  As  the  snake's  strength  begins  to  flag, 
the  mocking-bird  seizes  and  lifts  it  up  partly  from  the 
ground,  beating  it  with  his  wings,  and,  when  the  business 
is  completed,  he  returns  to  the  repository  of  his  young, 
mounts  the  summit  of  the  bush,  and  pours  out  a  torrent  of 
song  in  token  of  victory. 

4.  The  plumage  of  the  mocking-bird,  though  none  of 
the  homeliest,  has  nothing  gaudy  or  brilliant  in  it,  and, 
had  he  nothing  else  to  recommend  him,   would  scarcely 
entitle  him  to  notice  ;  but  his  figure  is  well  proportioned, 
and  even  handsome.     The  ease,  elegance,  and  rapidity  of 
his  movements,  the  animation  of  his  eye,  and  the  intelli- 
gence he  displays  in  listening  and  laying  up  lessons  from 
almost  every  species  of  the  feathered  creation  within  his 
hearing,  are  really  surprising,  and  mark  the  peculiarity  of 
his  genius.     To  these  qualities  we  may  add  that  of  a  voice 
full,  strong,  and  musical,  and  capable   of  almost  every 
modulation,  from  the  clear,  mellow  tones  of  the  wood-thrush 
to  the  savage  scream  of  the  bald  eagle.     In  measure  and 
accent  he  faithfully  follows  his  originals.     In   force  and 
sweetness  of  expression  he  greatly  improves  upon  them. 

5.  In  his  native  groves,  mounted  on  the  top  of  a  tall 
bush  or  half-grown  tree,  in  the  dawn  of  a  dewy  morning, 
while  the  woods   are  already  vocal  with  a  multitude  of 
warblers,  his  admirable  song  rises  pre-eminent  over  every 
competitor.      The  ear  can  listen  to  Ms  music  alone,  to 
which  that  of  all  the  others  seems  a  mere  accompaniment. 
Neither  is  this  strain  altogether  imitative.     His  own  native 
notes,  which  are  easily  distinguishable  by  such  as  are  well 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  197 

acquainted  with  those  of  our  various  song-birds,  are  bold 
and  full,  and  varied,  seemingly,  beyond  all  limits.  They 
consist  of  short  expressions  of  two,  three,  or,  at  the  most, 
five  or  six  syllables  ;  generally  interspersed  with  imita- 
tions, and  all  of  them  uttered  with  great  emphasis  and  ra- 
pidity ;  and  continued,  with  undiminished  ardor,  for  half 
an  hour,  or  an  hour,  at  a  time — his  expanded  wings  and 
tail  glistening  with  white,  and  the  buoyant  gayety  of  his 
action  arresting  the  eye,  as  his  song  most  irresistibly  does 
the  ear.  He  sweeps  round  with  enthusiastic  ecstasy — he 
mounts  and  descends  as  his  song  swells  or  dies  away ; 
and,  as  my  friend  Mr.  Bartram  has  beautifully  expressed 
it,  "  He  bounds  aloft  with  the  celerity  of  an  arrow,  as  if  to 
recover  or  recall  his  very  soul,  expired  in  the  last  elevated 
strain. " 

6.  While  thus  exerting  himself,  a  bystander  destitute 
of  sight  would  suppose  that  the  whole  feathered  tribe  had 
assembled  together,  on  a  trial  of  skill,  each  striving  to  pro- 
duce his  utmost  effect,  so  perfect  are  his  imitations.     He 
many   times   deceives   the   sportsman,  and   sends  him  in 
search  of  birds  that  perhaps  are  not  within  miles  of  him, 
but  whose  notes  he  exactly  imitates  ;  even  birds  themselves 
are  frequently  imposed  on  by  this  admirable  mimic,  and 
are  decoyed  by  the  fancied  calls  of  their  mates ;  or  dive, 
with  precipitation,  into   the   depths   of  thickets,  at  the 
scream  of  what  they  suppose  to  be  the  sparrow-hawk. 

7.  The  mocking-bird  loses  little  of  the  power  and  en- 
ergy of  his  song  by  confinement.      In  his  domesticated 
state,  when  he  commences  his  career  of  song,  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  stand  by  uninterested.     He  whistles  for  the  dog ; 
Caesar  starts  up,  wags  his  tail,  and  runs  to  meet  his  master. 
He  squeaks  out  like  a  hurt  chicken,  and  the  hen  hurries 
about,  with   hanging  wings  and  bristled  feathers,  cluck- 
ing to  protect  its  injured  brood.     The  barking  of  the  dog, 
the  mewing  of  the  cat,  the  creaking  of  a  passing  wheel- 


L98  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

barrow,  follow,  with  great  truth  and  rapidity.  He  repeats 
the  tune  taught  him  by  his  master,  though  of  considerable 
length,  fully  and  faithfully.  He  runs  over  the  quiverings 
of  the  canary,  and  the  clear  whistlings  of  the  Virginia 
nightingale,  or  redbird,  with  such  superior  execution  and 
effect  that  the  mortified  songsters  feel  their  own  inferi- 
ority, and  become  altogether  silent,  while  he  seems  to  tri- 
umph in  their  defeat  by  redoubling  his  exertions. 

8.  This  excessive  fondness  for  variety,  however,  in  the 
opinion  of  some,  injures  his  song.  His  elevated  imitations 
of  the  brown  thrush  are  frequently  interrupted  by  the  crow- 
ing of  cocks  ;  and  the  warblings  of  the  bluebird,  which  he 
exquisitely  manages,  are  mingled  with  the  screaming  of 
swallows  or  the  cackling  of  hens  ;  amid  the  simple  melody 
of  the  robin  we  are  suddenly  surprised  by  the  shrill  reitera- 
tions of  the  whip-poor-will ;  while  the  notes  of  the  kildeer, 
blue  jay,  martin,  baltimore,  and  twenty  others,  succeed, 
with  such  imposing  reality,  that  we  look  round  for  the 
originals,  and  discover,  with  astonishment,  that  the  sole 
performer  in  this  singular  concert  is  the  admirable  bird 
now  before  us.  During  this  exhibition  of  his  powers  he 
spreads  his  wings,  expands  his  tail,  and  throws  himself 
around  the  cage  in  all  the  ecstasy  of  enthusiasm,  seeming 
not  only  to  sing,  but  to  dance,  keeping  time  to  the  meas- 
ure of  his  own  music.  Both  in  his  native  and  domesti- 
cated state,  during  the  solemn  stillness  of  night,  as  soon 
as  the  moon  rises  in  silent  majesty,  he  begins  his  delight- 
ful solo,  and  serenades  us  the  livelong  night  with  a  full 
display  of  his  vocal  powers,  making  the  neighborhood  ring 
with  his  inimitable  medley. 

Alexander  Wilson. 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  199 


THE    PERSEVERING    SONGSTER. 

1.  A  CURIOUS  circumstance,  quite  aside  from  the  ordi- 
nary dictates  of  instinct,  occurred  in  the  case  of  a  young 
bobolink,  in  the  family  of  the  Rev.  J.  W.  Turner,  of  Great 
Barrington,  Massachusetts.     He  was  caged  at  first  apart 
from  a  pair  of  canaries,  which  were  in  another  cage  in  the 
same  room.     The  bobolink  never  sung  at  all  from  June 
to  December,  until  he  was  permitted  to  share  in  the  same 
cage  the  civilities  and  sympathies  of  his  neighbors,  the 
canaries,   who   had   been  so   long  entertaining  him  with 
their  sweet  and  unwearied  strains.     When  admitted  to  the 
same  cage  with  them,  he  tried  most  assiduously  to  learn 
their  song,  at  first,  however,  for  a  long  time,  with  miser- 
able success  enough.     He  would  stand  and  watch  them 
with  an  rgony  of  attention,  and  then  try  to  imitate  their 
notes.     He  would  swell  out  his  throat,  and  stretch  up  his 
neck  as  they  did,  and  then,  with  a  violent  effort,  try  to 
sound  one  note,  which,  in  spite  of  all  his  zeal  and  labor, 
proved  to  be  a  mere  rough  scream. 

2.  At  this  humiliating  failure  he  would  be  so  provoked 
and  enraged  that  he  would  fly  at  his  inoffensive  and  well- 
meaning  mates  and  teachers,  and  peck  them  most  unmer- 
cifully, and  drive  them  from  their  perch.     So  he  did  for 
three   or  four  weeks,  before  any  apparent  progress  was 
made  in  his  studies.     But  his  perseverance  was  equal  to 
the  difficulties  he  had  to  overcome.     At  length  he  could 
sound  one  note  well,  and  one  only.     And  so  he  continued 
for  some  six  weeks  longer,  learning  one  note  at  a  time, 
till  he  had  finally  completed  the  whole  canary  song,  and 
could  sing   it  to  perfection.     Then  he  would   sing  with 
them  in  perfect  harmony  and  perfect  time,  always  closing 
at  the  exact  note  with  them. 

3.  It  is  also  a  little  singular  that,  although  through  all 


200  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

this  training  he  was  never  known  to  begin  to  make  a  sound 
till  the  canaries  had  first  struck  the  key-note,  yet,  after 
he  had  acquired  the  skill  to  sing  their  song,  he  must  al- 
ways himself  now  give  the  signal  by  a  significant  cluck, 
when,  instantly,  the  canaries,  generously  forgetting  or 
forgiving  his  former  incivilities,  would  strike  in  with,  and 
perform  the  piece  with  the  greatest  perfection,  and  with 
the  highest  delight  to  themselves  and  the  listening  family, 
who  enjoyed  this  singular  concert  through  the  early  part 
of  every  day  for  the  whole  summer. 

4.  It  is  also  worthy  of  remark  that  this  successful  es- 
sayist in  foreign  music  was  never  known  to  utter  a  note, 
or  to  attempt  to  utter  a  note,  in  his  native  tongue,  till  he 
had  mastered  the  canary.     Then,  after  a  few  weeks,  when 
he  found  himself  something  of  an  independent  singer,  and 
capable,  as  he  thought,  of  leading  the  choir,  he  at  last 
ventured  to  go  without  the  chorus  and  attempt  his  own 
native  melody.     In  his  first  attempts  at  the  solo,  it  was 
most  diverting  to  hear  him  in  confused  notes — part  in  his 
native  bobolink,  and  part  in  canary,  till  at  length  he  was 
able  to  expel  all  foreign  element  from  his  style  and  sing 
only  the  pure  bobolink. 

5.  Having  now  succeeded  in  this,  he  proposed  to  the 
canaries  to  try  the  chorus  again,  and  gave  the  "cluck" 
when  the  canaries,  instant  to  the  sign,  started  off  singing 
their  own  native   song.      But  not  so  the  bobolink ;   he 
threw  himself  on  his  "reserved  rights"  and  sang  bobo- 
link ;  and  so  they  have  continued  to  the  present  time,  he 
singing  bobolink,  and  they  canary.     And  as  he  is  the  chor- 
ister, they  begin  when  he  does,  and  end  when  he  ends, 
precisely  at  the  same  instant. 

6.  When  this  bobolink  was  first  caught,  his  colors  were 
a  bright,  beautiful  black  and  white.     After  molting,  he, 
for  some  reason  not  stated,  never  resumed  his  original 
spring  dress,  but  has  continued  the  plain  brown,  like  the 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  201 

female,  now  for  two  years ;  and  sings  in  the  winter  as  well 
as  in  the  summer,  especially  when  the  sun  shines  brightly, 
and  the  winds  whistle  in  the  trees  around  the  dwelling ; 
and  now,  since  his  character  is  matured,  he  is  a  sprightly, 
happy,  gentlemanly  sort  of  a  bird. 

Boston  Traveler  1851. 


BIRD-NOTES. 

1.  THE  winged  tribes  have  various  sounds  and  voices, 
adapted  to  express  their  various  passions,  wants,  and  feel- 
ings— such  as  anger,  fear,  love,  hatred,  hunger,  and  the 
like.     All  species  are  not  equally  eloquent ;  some  are  copi- 
ous and  fluent,  as  it  were,  in  their  utterance,  while  others 
are  confined  to  a  few  important  sounds ;  no  bird,  like  the 
fish-kind,  is  quite  mute,   though  some  are  rather  silent. 
The  language  of  birds  is  very  ancient,  and,  like  other  an- 
cient modes  of  speech,  very  elliptical  :  little  is  said,  but 
much  is  meant  and  understood. 

2.  The  notes  of  the  eagle-kind  are  shrill  and  piercing, 
and,  about  nest-making  season,  much   diversified.      The 
notes  of  our  hawks  resemble  those  of  the  king  of  birds. 
Owls  have  very  expressive  notes  ;  they  hoot  in  a  fine  vocal 
sound,  much  resembling  the  vox  humana,  and  reducible  by 
a  pitch-pipe  to  a  musical  key.     This  note  seems  to  express 
complacency  and  rivalry  among  the  males  ;  they  use,  also, 
a  quick  call  and  a  horrible  scream,  and  can  snore  and  hiss 
when  they  mean  to  menace.     Eavens,   besides  their  loud 
croak,  can  exert  a  deep  and   solemn  tone  that  makes  the 
woods  to  echo  ;  the  low  note  of  the  crow  sounds  strange 
and  ridiculous  ;    rooks,  in  the   breeding  season,  attempt 
sometimes,  in   the    gayety  of  their  hearts,   to   sing,   but 
with  no  great  success ;  the  parrot-kind  have  many  modu- 
lations of  voice,  as  appears  by  their  aptitude  to  learn  hu- 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

man  sounds  ;  doves  coo  in  a  mournful  manner,  and  are 
emblems  of  despairing  lovers ;  the  woodpecker  sets  up  a 
sort  of  loud,  hearty  laugh  ;  the  fern-owl  or  goat-sucker, 
from  the  dusk  till  daybreak,  serenades  his  mate  with  the 
clattering  of  castanets. 

3.  All  the  tuneful  Passeres  express  their  complacency 
by  sweet  modulations  and  a  variety  of  melody.     The  swal- 
low, by  a  shrill  alarm,  bespeaks  the  attention  of  his  fellows, 
and  bids  them  to  beware,  the  hawk  is  at  hand.     Aquatic 
and  gregarious  birds,  especially  the  nocturnal,  that  shift 
their  quarters  in  the  dark,  are  very  noisy  and  loquacious, 
as  cranes,  wild  geese,  wild  ducks,  and  the  like  :  their  per- 
petual clamor  prevents  them  from  dispersing  and  losing 
their  companions. 

4.  In  so  extensive  a  subject,  sketches  and  outlines  are 
as  much  as  can  be  expected,  for  it  would  be  endless  to  in- 
stance in  all  the  infinite  variety  of  the  feathered  tribes. 
We  will,  therefore,  confine  the  remainder  of  this  letter  to 
the  few  domestic  fowls  of  our  yards  which  are  most  known, 
and,  therefore,  best  understood.     And  first  the  peacock, 
with  his  gorgeous  train,  demands  our  attention  ;  but,  like 
most  of  the  gaudy  birds,  his  notes  are  grating  and  shock- 
ing to  the  ear ;  the  yelling  of  cats  and  the  braying  of  an 
ass  are  not  more  discordant.      The  voice   of  the  goose  is 
trumpet-like  and  clanking,  and  once  saved  the  Capitol  at 
Rome,  as  grave  historians  assert ;  the  hiss,  also,  of  the  gan- 
der is  formidable  and  full  of  menace,  and  "  protective  of 
his  young." 

5.  Among  ducks  the  sexual  distinction  of  voice  is  re- 
markable, for,  while  the  quack  of  the  female  is  loud  and 
sonorous,  the  voice  of  the  drake  is  inward  and  harsh  and 
feeble,  and  scarce  discernible.     The  cock-turkey  struts  and 
gobbles  in  a  most  uncouth  manner  ;  he  hath  also  a  pert 
and  petulant  note  when  he  attacks  his  adversary.     When 
a  hen- turkey  leads  forth  her  young  brood  she  keeps  a 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  203 

watchful  eye,  and  if  a  bird  of  prey  appear,  though  ever 
so  high  in  the  air,  the  careful  mother  announces  the  enemy 
with  a  little  inward  moan,  and  watches  him  with  a  steady 
and  attentive  look ;  but,  if  he  approach,  her  note  becomes 
earnest  and  alarming,  and  her  outcries  are  redoubled. 

6.  No  inhabitants  of  a  yard  seem  possessed  of  such  a 
variety  of  expression  and  so  copious  a  language  as  common 
poultry.     Take  a  chicken  of  four  or  five  days  old  and 
hold  it  up  to  a  window  where  there  are  flies,  and  it  will 
immediately  seize  the  prey  with  little  twitterings  of  com- 
placency ;  but  if  you  tender  it  a  wasp  or  a  bee,  at  once  its 
note  becomes  harsh,  and  expressive  of  disapprobation  and 
a  sense  of  danger.     When  a  pullet  is  ready  to  lay,  she  inti- 
mates the  event  by  a  joyous  and  easy,  soft  note.     Of  all  the 
occurrences  of  her  life,  that  of  laying  seems  to  be  the  most 
important ;  for  no  sooner  has  a  hen  disburdened  herself 
than  she  rushes  forth  with  a  clamorous  kind  of  joy,  which 
the  cock  and  other  hens  immediately  adopt.     The  tumult 
is  not  confined  to  the  family  concerned,  but  catches  from 
yard  to  yard,  and  spreads  to  every  homestead  within  hear- 
ing, till  at  last  the  whole  village  is  in  an  uproar. 

7.  As  soon  as  a  hen  becomes  a  mother,  her  new  relation 
demands  a  new  language ;   she   then  runs  clucking  and 
screaming  about,  and  seems  agitated  as  if  possessed.     The 
father  of  the  flock  has  also  a  considerable  vocabulary.    If  he 
finds  food,  he  calls  the  hens  to  partake  ;  and  if  a  bird  of  prey 
passes  over,  with  a  warning  voice  he  bids  his  family  be- 
ware.    The  gallant  chanticleer  has  at  command  his  love- 
phrases  and  his  terms  of  defiance.     But  the  sound   by 
which  he  is  best  known  is  his  crowing ;  by  this  he  has  been 
distinguished   in   all   ages   as   the  countryman's   clock  or 
larum,  as  the  watchman  that  proclaims  the  divisions  of 
the  night.     Thus  the  poet  elegantly  describes  him  : 

"  .  .  .  .  the  crested  cock,  whose  clarion  sounds 
The  silent  hours." 


204  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

8.  A  neighboring  gentleman  one  summer  had  lost  most 
of  his  chickens  by  a  sparrow-hawk,  that  came  gliding 
down  between  a  fagot-pile  and  the  end  of  his  house  to  the 
place  where  the  coops  stood.  The  owner,  inwardly  vexed 
to  see  his  flock  thus  diminished,  hung  a  setting-net  adroitly 
between  the  pile  and  the  house,  into  which  the  caitiff 
dashed  and  was  entangled.  Eesentment  suggested  the 
law  of  retaliation  ;  he  therefore  clipped  the  hawk's  wings, 
cut  off  his  talons,  and,  fixing  a  cork  on  his  bill,  threw 
him  down  among  the  brood-hens.  Imagination  can  not 
paint  the  scene  that  ensued ;  the  expressions  that  fear, 
rage,  and  revenge  inspired  were  new,  or  at  least  such  as 
had  been  unnoticed  before  :  the  exasperated  matrons  up- 
braided, they  execrated,  they  insulted,  they  triumphed. 
In  a  word,  they  never  desisted  from  buffeting  their  adver- 
sary till  they  had  torn  him  into  a  hundred  pieces. 

Willie's  Selborne. 


ODE  TO   THE    SKY-LARK. 

1.  HAIL  to  thee,  blithe  spirit ! 

Bird  thou  never  wert, 
That  from  heaven,  or  near  it, 

Pourest  thy  full  heart 
In  profuse  strains  of  unpremeditated  art. 

2.  Higher  still  and  higher, 

From  the  earth  thou  springest 
Like  a  cloud  of  fire  ; 

The  blue  deep  thou  wingest, 
And  singing  still  dost  soar,  and  soaring  ever  singest. 


OUR  FOREST  CHORISTERS.  205 

3.  In  the  golden  lightning 

Of  the  sunken  sun, 
O'er  which  clouds  are  bright'ning, 

Thou  dost  float  and  run, 
Like  an  unbodied  joy  whose  race  is  just  begun. 

4.  The  pale  purple  even 

Melts  around  thy  flight ; 
Like  a  star  of  heaven 

In  the  broad  daylight, 
Thou  art  unseen,  but,  yet,  I  hear  thy  shrill  delight. 

5.  What  thou  art,  we  know  not ; 

What  is  most  like  thee  ? 
From  rainbow  clouds  there  flow  not. 

Drops  so  bright  to  see, 
As  from  thy  presence  showers  a  rain  of  melody. 

6.  Like  a  poet  hidden 

In  the  light  of  thought, 
Singing  hymns  unbidden, 

Till  the  world  is  wrought 
To  sympathy  with  hopes  and  fears  it  heeded  not. 

7.  Teach  us,  sprite  or  bird, 

What  sweet  thoughts  are  thine  ; 
I  have  never  heard 

Praise  of  love  or  wine 
That  panted  forth  a  flood  of  rapture  so  divine. 

8.  Chorus  hymeneal, 

Or  triumphal  chaunt, 
Matched  with  thine  would  be  all 

But  an  empty  vaunt — 
A  thing  wherein  we  feel  there  is  some  hidden  want. 


206  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

9.  What  objects  are  the  fountains 

Of  thy  happy  strain  ? 
What  fields,  or  waves,  or  mountains  ? 

What  shapes  of  sky  or  plain  ? 
What  love  of  thine  own  kind  ?  what  ignorance  of  pain  ? 

10.  Waking  or  asleep, 

Thou  of  death  must  deem 
Things  more  true  and  deep 
Than  we  mortals  dream, 
Or  how  could  thy  notes  flow  in  such  a  crystal  stream  ? 

11.  We  look  before  and  after, 

And  pine  for  what  is  not : 
Our  sincerest  laughter 

With  some  pain  is  fraught  : 
Our  sweetest  songs  are  those  that  tell  of  saddest  thought. 

12.  Teach  me  half  the  gladness 

That  thy  brain  must  know  : 
Such  harmonious  madness 

From  my  lips  would  flow, 
The  world  should  listen  then  as  I  am  listening  now. 

Shelley. 


OTHER   NEIGHBORS 
THE   TREES. 


IN   THE  WOODS. 

1.  OF  course,  in  the  deep,  primi- 
tive woods  there  are  nests ;  but  how 
rarely  we  find  them  !  The  simple  art 
of  the  bird  consists  in  choosing  com- 
mon, neutral-tinted  material,  as  moss, 
dry  leaves,  twigs,  and  various  odds 
and  ends,  and  placing  the  structure 
on  a  convenient  branch,  where  it 
blends  in  color  with  its  surround- 


208  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

ings ;  but  how  consummate  is  this  art,  and  how  skillfully 
is  the  nest  concealed  !  We  occasionally  light  upon  it,  but 
who,  unaided  by  the  movements  of  the  bird,  could  find  it 
out  ?  During  the  present  season  I  went  to  the  woods 
nearly  every  day  for  a  fortnight,  without  making  any  dis- 
coveries of  this  kind  ;  till  one  day,  paying  them  a  farewell 
visit,  I  chanced  to  come  upon  several  nests. 

2.  A  black  and  white  creeping  warbler  suddenly  became 
much  alarmed  as  I  approached  a  crumbling  old  stump  in  a 
dense  part  of  the  forest.      He  alighted  upon  it,  chirped 
sharply,  ran  up  and  down  its  sides,  and  finally  left  it  with 
much  reluctance.     The  nest,  which  contained  three  young 
birds  nearly  fledged,  was  placed  upon  the  ground  at  the 
foot  of  the  stump,  and  in  such  a  position  that  the  color  of 
the  young  harmonized  perfectly  with  the  bits  of  bark, 
sticks,  etc.,  lying  about.     My  eye  rested  upon  them  for  the 
second  time  before  I  made  them  out.     They  hugged  the 
nest  very  closely,  but,  as  I  put   down  my  hand,  they  all 
scampered  off  with  loud  cries  for  help,  which  caused  the 
parent-birds  to  place  themselves  almost  within  my  reach. 
The  nest  was  merely  a  little  dry  grass  arranged  in  a  thick 
bed  of  dry  leaves. 

3.  This  was  amid  a  thick  undergrowth.     Moving  on  into 
a  passage  of  large,  stately  hemlocks,  with  only  here  and  there 
a  small  beech  or  maple  rising  up  into  the  perennial  twilight, 
I  paused  to  make  out  a  note  which  was  entirely  new  to  me. 
It  is  still  in  my  ear.     Though  unmistakably  a  bird-note,  it 
yet  suggested  the  bleating  of  a  tiny  lambkin.     Presently 
the  birds  appeared — a  pair  of  the   solitary  vireo.      They 
came  flitting  from  point  to  point,  alighting  only  for  a  mo- 
ment at  a  time,  the  male  silent,  but  the  female  uttering 
this  strange,  tender  note.     It  was  a  rendering  into  some 
new  sylvan  dialect  of  the  human  sentiment  of  maidenly 
love.     It  was  really  pathetic  in  its  sweetness  and  childlike 
confidence  and  joy. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          209 

4.  I  soon  discovered  that  the  pair  were  building  a  nest 
upon  a  low  branch  a  few  yards  from  me.     The  male  flew 
cautiously  to  the  spot  and  adjusted  something,  and  the 
twain  moved  on,  the  female  calling  to  her  mate,  at  intervals, 
love-e,  love-e,  with  a  cadence  and  tenderness  in  the  tone 
that  rang  in  the  ear  long  afterward.     The  nest  was  sus- 
pended to  the  fork  of  a  small  branch,  as  is  usual  with  the 
vireos,  plentifully  lined  with  lichens,  and  bound  and  re- 
bound with  masses  of  coarse  spider-webs.     There  was  no 
attempt  at  concealment  except  in  the  neutral  tints,  which 
made  it  look  like  a  natural  growth  of  the  dim,  gray  woods. 

5.  Continuing  my  random  walk,  I  next  paused  in  a  low 
part  of  the  woods,  where  the  larger  trees  began  to  give 
place  to  a  thick  second  growth  that  covered  an  old  bark- 
peeling.     I  was  standing  by  a  large  maple,  when  a  small 
bird  darted  quickly  away  from  it,  as  if  it  might  have  come 
out  of  a  hole  near  its  base.     As  the  bird  paused  a  few  yards 
from  me,  and  began  to  chirp  uneasily,  my  curiosity  was  at 
once  excited.     When  I  saw  it  was  the  female  mourning 
ground- warbler,  and  remembered  that  the  nest  of  this  bird 
had  not  yet  been  seen  by  any  naturalist — that  not  even  Dr. 
Brewer  had  ever  seen  the  eggs — I  felt  that  here  was  some- 
thing worth  looking  for. 

6.  So  I  carefully  began  the  search,  exploring  inch  by 
inch  the  ground,  the  base  and  roots  of  the  tree,  and  the 
various  shrubby  growths  about  it,  till,  finding  nothing,  and 
fearing  I  might  really  put  my  foot  in  it^I  bethought  me  to 
withdraw  to  a  distance  and  after  some  delay  return  again, 
and,  thus  forewarned,  note   the   exact  point  from  which 
the   bird   flew.      This   I   did,    and,    returning,  had  little 
difficulty  in  discovering  the  nest.      It  was  placed  but  a 
few  feet  from  the   maple-tree,   in  a  bunch  of  ferns,  and 
about  six  inches  from  the  ground.     It  was  quite  a  massive 
nest,  composed  entirely  of  the  stalks  and  leaves  of  dry 
grass,  with  an   inner  lining  of   fine,  dark -brown  roots. 


210  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

The  eggs,  three  in  number,  were  of  light  flesh-color,  uni- 
formly specked  with  fine  brown  specks.  The  cavity  of 
the  nest  was  so  deep  that  the  back  of  the  sitting  bird 
sank  below  the  edge. 

7.  In  the  top  of  a  tall  tree,  a  short  distance  farther  on, 
I  saw  the  nest  of  the  red-tailed  hawk — a   large  mass   of 
twigs  and  dry  sticks.     The  young  had  flown,  but  still  lin- 
gered in  the  vicinity,  and,  as  I  approached,  the  mother- 
bird  flew  about  over  me,  squealing  in  a  very  angry,  savage 
manner.     Tufts  of  the  hair  and  other  indigestible  material 
of  the  common  meadow-mouse  lay  around  on  the  ground 
beneath  the  nest. 

8.  As   I  was  about  leaving  the  woods  my  hat  almost 
brushed  the  nest  of  the  red-eyed  vireo,  which  hung  basket- 
like  on  the  end  of  a  low,  drooping  branch  of  the  beech. 
I  should  never  have  seen  it  had  the  bird  kept  her  place. 
It  contained  three  eggs  of  the  bird's  own,  and  one  of  the 
cow-bunting.     The  strange  egg  was  only  just  perceptibly 
larger   than    the   others,   yet   three    days   after,    when    I 
looked  into  the  nest   again    and  found  all  but   one   egg 
hatched,  the  young  interloper  was  at  least  four  times  as 
large  as  either  of  the  others,  and  with  such  a  superabun- 
dance of  bowels  as  to  almost  smother  his  bed-fellows  be- 
neath them.     That  the  intruder  should  fare  the  same  as 
the  rightful  occupants,  and  thrive  with  them,  was  more 
than  ordinary  potluck ;  but  that  it  alone   should   thrive, 
devouring,  as  it  were,  all  the  rest,  is  one  of  those  freaks 
of  Nature  in  which  she    would  seem  to    discourage  the 
homely  virtues  of  prudence  and  honesty.    Weeds  and  para- 
sites have  the  odds  greatly  against  them,  yet  they  wage  a 
very  successful  war  nevertheless. 

John  Burroughs. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          211 


HUMMING-BIRDS. 

1.  THE  discovery  of  America  opened  up  to  the  civilized 
world  many  new  objects  of  interest  in  the  animal,  vege- 
table, and  mineral  kingdoms.     Not  the  least  in  interest  was 
the  discovery  of  an  extensive  group  of  birds,  consisting  of 
several  hundred  species,  whose  diminutive  size,  quickness 
of  motion,  boldness  of  demeanor,  elegance  of  form,  and 
exquisite  beauty  of  plumage  attracted  the  attention  and 
secured  the  admiration  of  every  lover  of  nature. 

2.  The  larger  portion  of  these  birds  live  in  the  West 
Indies  and  the  tropical  regions  of  America.     Some  occupy 
only  a  small  island  or  district ;  others,  a  narrow  belt  on 
the  side  of  a  mountain  :  most  do  not  extend  their  limits 
beyond  a  few  degrees  of  latitude,  while  a  few  are  migratory, 
and  spend  the  summer  in  the  temperate  zone,  but  return 
to  the  tropical  regions  for  the  winter.     Their  food  consists 
of  honey  and  insects ;  and,  consequently,  they  must  live 
where  flowers  grow  and  insects  abound. 

3.  The  Indians  gave  to  these  interesting  little  creatures 
fanciful  names  that  expressed  the  idea  of  sunbeams,  sun- 
angels,  sun-gems,  tresses  of  the  day-star,  murmuring-birds, 
and  the  like.     And  naturalists  have  given  to  them  names 
equally  fanciful,  expressing  the  same  or  similar  ideas,  such 
as  brilliant  birds,  light-bearers,  sun-seekers,  flower-kissers, 
honey-suckers,  living  meteors,  and  many  others  of  similar 
meaning.     They  derive  their  common  name  from  the  buz- 
zing or  humming  sound  which  they  make  with  their  wings. 
These  vibrate  so  quickly  as  to  be  visible  only  as  a  semicir- 
cular film  on  each  side  of  the  body.     The  sound  made  by 
different  species  varies  with  the  velocity  of  their  wings. 
That  made  by  the  vervain  humming-bird  resembles  the 
sound  of  a  large  bee,  while  that  made  by  the  polytmus  re- 
sembles the  sound  of  a  swiftly  revolving  wheel. 


212  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

4.  One  of  the  peculiarities  which  first  strikes  a  stranger, 
upon  seeing  one  of  these  brilliant  breathing  gems,  is  the 
immense  power  of  wing,  shown  by  the  quickness  of  his 
flight,  also  by  the  ease  with  which  he  balances  himself  in 
the  air,  whether,  foraging  unmolested,  he  is  feeding  at  the 
flowers,  or,  attracted  by  curiosity,  he  is  surveying  one's 
person.     He  comes  so  suddenly  as  to  give  no  warning  to 
the  eye ;  we  hear  a  buzz,  see  the  bird  near  us  stationary, 
his  form  distinct,  and  when  he  leaves,  so  quick  and  sudden 
is  his  flight  that  the  eye  can  scarcely  trace  his  pathway. 
The  muscles  of  his  wings  are  more  powerful  and  active,  in 
proportion  to  his  size,  than  those  of  any  other  bird,  and 
the  wings  are  very  long  and  sharp.     For  this  reason  he  can 
easily  hover,  apparently  motionless,  for  any  length  of  time, 
before  a  flower  whose  honey  he  wishes  to  obtain.     He  thus 
sips  the  nectar  of  one  flower  after  another  for  hours  in  suc- 
cession, without  showing  any  signs  of  weariness,  or  disturb- 
ing in  the  least  the  most  delicate  blossom. 

5.  If  any  one  wishes  to  observe  these  birds  and  their 
habits,  let  him,  on  a  fine,  pleasant  morning,  visit  a  cluster 
of  gooseberry  bushes  when  in  bloom,  of  whose  honey  they 
are  exceedingly  fond,  and  he  will  probably  find  one  or 
more  of  them  quietly  searching  the  flowers  for  food.     If 
disturbed,  he  will  frequently  rise  to  a  considerable  height 
in  an  oblique  direction,  then  dart  down,  almost  with  the 
velocity  of  a  bullet,  past  the  place  of  annoyance,  and  rise 
on  the  opposite  side  to  an  equal  height ;  then  return  by 
reversing  his  course,  and  so  repeat  these  sweeping  move- 
ments   till   he    sufficiently   expresses   his    disapprobation, 
drives  away  his  adversary,  or  retires  in  disgust. 

6.  Their  bills  are  all  very  slender  and  sharp.     Most  of 
them  are  long,  some  are  straight,  many  are  curved  down- 
ward, and  a  few  are  curved  upward.     They  all  appear  to 
be  adapted  to  the  kind  of  flowers  from  which  the  birds 
obtain  their  food.     Their  tongue  is  a  slender  sucking- tube, 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          213 

and  capable  of  being  thrust  out  a  long  distance.  It  ap- 
pears as  though  composed  of  two  minute  muscular  tubes, 
lined  within  by  two  partial  tubes,  of  a  substance  resembling 
parchment,  laid  side  by  side,  and  joined  together  for  about 
half  of  their  length,  but  separate  toward  the  tip,  near 
which  each  partial  tube  becomes  less  curved,  and  appar- 
ently widened,  then  tapers  to  a  point,  the  upper  edge  being 
irregularly  notched  or  slit,  the  barbs  pointing  backward. 

7.  The  tongue  is  constantly  moistened  by  a  glutinous 
saliva,  by  means  of  which  it  is  enabled  to  seize  and  hold  in- 
sects.    Says  Martin  :  "It  is  by  a  pumping  or  sucking  ac- 
tion, as  we  have  every  reason  to  believe,  that  nectar  or 
fluids  are  absorbed  by  the  tubular  tongue  of  these  birds. 
In  no  other  vertebrate  animals,  as  far  as  we  know,  is  the 
tongue  constructed  as  a  tubular  sucking-pump  :    so  far, 
the  humming-birds  stand  alone ;  and  this  circumstance  in 
itself,  considering  it  with  reference  to  organic  structure, 
might  be  adduced  as  a  reason  for  regarding  these  birds  as  a 
distinct  order." 

8.  Mr.   Thomas  Belt,  author  of   "The   Naturalist  in 
Nicaragua,"  indicates  another  function  performed  by  the 
curious  cleft  tongue  of  the  humming-bird — viz.,  the  capture 
of  insects.     This  organ  is,  for  one  half  its  length,  made  up 
of  a  substance  like  rather  stiff  parchment,  or  horn,  and 
split  in  two.     When  at  rest,  the  two  halves  are  laid  flat 
against  each  other,  but  they  can  be  separated  at  the  will  of 
the  bird,  and  form  a  pair  of  forceps,  admirably  adapted  for 
picking  out  minute  insects  from  among  the  stamens  of 
flowers. 

9.  We  may  admire  the  elegance  of  form  and  the  quick- 
ness of  motion  of  these  birds,  but  the  dazzling  splendor  of 
their  plumage,  resembling  that  of  burnished  metal  or  pol- 
ished gems,  changing  with  every  change  of  position,  has  a 
charm  for  the  dullest  observer,  and  a  fascination  for  the 
more  sensitive.     The  wonderful  change  in  color  that  takes 


214  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

place,  according  to  the  position  of  the  light,  from  brilliant 
green,  through  the  brightest  golden  tints,  to  intense  vel- 
vety black,  or  from  black  to  emerald,  or  ruby,  or  crimson, 
or  flame-color,  reminds  one  of  fairy-land,  or  the  tales  of 
the  genii.  Where  a  metallic  luster  prevails,  the  plumage 
is  always  composed  of  feathers  so  shaped  as  to  appear  to 
have  the  form  of  scales.  "  The  birds  vary  in  respect  to  the 
parts  that  have  these  feathers.  While  most  have  them  on 
the  throat,  many  have  them  on  the  breast  and  head  ;  others 
have  them  also  on  the  back  ;  some  have  them  on  the  wing- 
coverts  or  tail ;  and  a  few  have  them  on  nearly  all  parts, 
except  the  long  wing-feathers,  which  are  generally  of  a  pur- 
plish brown. 

10.  It  may  here  be  asked,  What  causes  the  gorgeous 
metallic  luster  of  their  plumage,  and  the  rich,  changing 
tints  of  the  various  colors,  representing  every  hue  of  the 
rainbow,  purple,  amethyst,  fiery  crimson,  brilliant  ruby, 
radiant  topaz,  emerald  green,  resplendent  blue,  and  glossy 
violet,  which,  in  certain  lights,  often  gleam  with  a  reful- 
gence that  almost  dazzles  the  eye  ?  They  have  been  attri- 
buted to  various  causes,  but  it  appears  to  be  the  condition 
of  the  surface  of  the  feathers  that  produces  the  iridescence. 
The  surface  is  striated,  or  has  minute  furrows,  like  the 
nacre,  or  mother-of-pearl  of  the  Haliotis,  and  other  sea- 
shells,  which  decompose  the  light — absorbing  part,  and  re- 
flecting part ;  the  color  of  the  reflected  light  depends  upon 
the  angle  of  the  incident  ray  to  the  surface,  and  varies  as 
the  angle  varies.  In  one  direction  of  the  incident  ray  the 
light  will  be  wholly  absorbed,  and  none  being  reflected,  the 
surface  will  appear  intensely  black.  It  will  readily  be  per- 
ceived that  every  movement  of  the  bird  produces  more  or 
less  a  change  of  color.  Even  the  heaving  of  the  breast,  in 
breathing,  sometimes  produces  perceptible  changes. 

James  H.  Partridge. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          215 


MY  AERIAL  VISITOR. 

1.  TO-DAY,  Estelle,  your  special  messenger,  the  hum- 
ming-bird, comes  darting  to  our  oriel,  my  Orient.     As  I 
sat  sewing,  his  sudden,  unexpected  whirr  made  me  look  up. 
How  did  he  know  that  the  very  first  Japan  pear-bud  opened 
this  morning  ?    Flower  and  bird  came  together  by  some 
wise  prescience. 

2.  He  has  been  sipping  honey  from  your  passion-flowers, 
and  now  has  come  to  taste  my  blossoms.     What  bright- 
winged  thought  of  yours  sent  him  so  straight  to  me,  across 
that  wide  space  of  sea  and  land  ?    Did  he  dart  like  a  sun- 
beam all  the  way  ?    There  were  many  of  them  voyaged  to- 
gether ;  a  little  line  of  wavering  light  pierced  the  dark  that 
night. 

3.  A  large,  brave  heart  has  our  bold  sailor  of  the  upper 
deep.     Old  Pindar  never  saw  our  little  pet,  this  darling  of 
the  New  World  ;  yet  he  says  : 

"  Were  it  the  will  of  Heaven,  an  osier-bough 
Were  vessel  safe  enough  the  seas  to  plow." 
Here  he  is,  safe  enough,  not  one  tiny  feather  ruffled — all 
the  intense  life  of  the  tropics  condensed  into  this  one  live 
jewel — the  glance  of  the  sun  on  emeralds  and  rubies.     Is  it 
soft,  downy  feathers  that  take  this  rich  metallic  glow, 
changing  their  hue  with  every  rapid  turn  ?  . 

4.  Other  birds  fly  :  he  darts  quick  as»  the  glance  of  the 
eye  ;  sudden  as  thought,  he  is  here,  he  is  there.     No  float- 
ing, balancing  motion,  like  the  lazy  butterfly,  who  fans  the 
air  with  her  broad  sails.     To  the  point,  always  to  the  point, 
he  turns  in  straight  lines.     How  stumbling  and  heavy  is 
the  flight  of  the  " burly,  dozing  bumble-bee"  beside  this 
quick  intelligence  !     Our  knight  of  the  ruby  throat,  with 
lance  in  rest,  makes  wild  and  rapid  sallies  on  this  ' ( little 
mundane  bird  " — this  bumble-bee — this  rolling  sailor,  never 


216 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


off  his  sea-legs,  always  spinning  his  long  homespun  yarns. 
This  rich  bed  of  golden  and  crimson  flowers  is  a  handsome 


inq- Birds. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          217 

field  of  tournament.     What  invisible  circle  sits  round  to 
adjudge  the  prize  ? 

5.  What  secret  does  he  bring  me  under  those  misty 
wings — that   busy,  birring  sound,    like  neighbor   Clark's 
spinning-wheel  ?    Is  he  busy  as  well — this  bit  of  pure  light 
and  heat  ?    Yes  !  he  too  has  got  a  little  home  down  in  the 
swamp  over  there — that  bit  of  a  knot  on  the  young  oak 
sapling.     Last  year  we  found  a  nest  lined  with  the  floss  of 
willow-catkin  stuck  all  over  with  lichens,  deep  enough  to 
secure  the  two  pure  round  pearls  from  being  thrown  out, 
strongly  fastened  to  the  forked  branch — a  home  so  snug, 
so  warm,  so  soft ! — a  home  "contrived  for  fairy  needs." 

6.  Who  but  the  fairies  or  Mr.  Fine-Ear  himself  ever 
heard  the  tiny  tap  of  the  young  bird  when  he  breaks  the 
imprisoning  shell  ?    The  mother-bird  knows  well  the  fine 
sound.     Hours  ?    Days  ?    No,  weeks  she  has  sat,  to  hear  at 
last  that  least  wave  of  sound.     What !  this  tiny  bit  of  rest- 
less motion  sit  there  still  ?    Minutes  must  be  long  hours  to 
her  quick,  panting  heart.     I  will  just  whisper  it  in  your 
ear,  that  the  meek-looking  mother-bird  only  comes  out  be- 
tween daylight  and  dark— just  like  other  busy  mothers  I 
have  known,  who  take  a  little  run  out  after  tea. 

7.  Can  it  be  that  Mr.  Ruby-Throat  keeps  all  the  sun- 
shiny hours  for  himself,  that  he  may  enjoy  to  the  full  his 
own  gay  flight  ?    Ah  !  you  know  nothing,  hear  nothing  of 
woman's  rights  up  there  in  that  well-ordered  household. 
Were  it  not  well  if  we  too  could  give  up  our  royal  right  of 
choice — if  we  could  fall  back  on  our  strong  earth-born  in- 
stincts— to  be,  to  know,  to  do,  one  thing  ? 

8.  See  how  closely  our  darling  curls  up  his  slender 
black  feet  and  legs,  that  we  may  not  see  this  one  bit  of 
mortality  about  him  !    No,  my  little  immortal  does  not 
touch  the  earth;  he  hangs  suspended  by  that  long  bill 
which  just  tethers  him  to  its  flowers.     Now  and  then  he 
will  let  down  the  little  black  tendrils  of  legs  and  feet  on 

10 


218  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

some  bare  twig,  and  there  he  rests  and  presses  those  already 
smooth  plumules  with  the  long,  slender  bodkin.  Now,  just 
now,  he  darts  into  my  room,  coquets  with  my  basket  of 
flowers,  "  a  kiss,  a  touch,  and  then  away."  I  heard  the 
whirr  of  those  gauzy  wings  ;  it  was  not  to  the  flowers  alone 
he  told  his  story. 

9.  I  have  heard  of  a  lady  who  reared  these  little  birds 
from  the  nest ;  they  would  suck  honey  from  her  lips,  and 
fly  in  and  out  of  her  chamber.     Only  think  of  seeing  these 
callow  fledglings  !     It  is  as  if  the  winged  thought  could  be 
domesticated,  could  learn  to  make  its  nest  with  us  and  rear 
its  young.     Bountiful  nature  has  spared  to  our  cold  North 
this  one  compact  bit  from  the  tropics. 

10.  Let  me,  then,  go  on  my  bird's-egging,  and  tell  you 
one  more  fact  about  our  fairy — our  humming-bird.     Au- 
dubon  says  that  "  an  all- wise  Providence  has  made  this 
little  hero  an  exception  to  a  rule  which  prevails  almost 
universally  through  nature  —  namely,    that  the   smallest 
species  of  a  tribe  are  the  most  prolific.     The  eagle  lays  one, 
sometimes  two  eggs  ;  the  small  European  wren  fifteen  ;  the 
humming-bird  two  ;  and  yet  this  latter  is  abundantly  more 
numerous  in  America  than  the  wren  in  Europe."     All  on 
account  of  his  wonderful  courage,  admirable  instinct,  or 
whatever  it  is  that  guards  and  guides  him  so  unerringly. 
You  see  we  may  well  love  him  who  Nature  herself  loves  so 

dearly.  Atlantic  Monthly. 


RARE   AND    BEAUTIFUL   NESTS. 

1.  THE  woods  hold  not  such  another  gem  as  the  nest  of 
the  humming-bird.  The  finding  of  one  is  an  event  to  date 
from.  It  is  the  next  best  thing  to  finding  an  eagle's  nest. 
I  have  met  with  but  two,  both  by  chance.  One  was  placed 
on  the  horizontal  branch  of  a  chestnut-tree,  with  a  solitary 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.  219 

green  leaf,  forming  a  complete  canopy,  about  an  inch  and 
a  half  above  it.  The  repeated  spiteful  dartings  of  the  bird 
past  my  ears,  as  I  stood  under  the  tree,  caused  me  to  sus- 
pect that  I  was  intruding  upon  some  one's  privacy  ;  and, 
following  it  with  my  eye,  I  soon  saw  the  nest,  which  was 
in  process  of  construction.  Adopting  my  usual  tactics  of 
secreting  myself  near  by,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
the  tiny  artist  at  work.  It  was  the  female,  unassisted  by 
her  mate.  At  intervals  of  two  or  three  minutes  she  would 
appear  with  a  small  tuft  of  some  cottony  substance  in  her 
beak,  dart  a  few  times  through  and  around  the  tree,  and, 
alighting  quickly  in  the  nest,  arrange  the  material  she  had 
brought,  using  her  breast  as  the  model. 

2.  The  other  nest  I  discovered  in  a  dense  forest  on  the 
side  of  a  mountain.     The  sitting  bird  was  disturbed  as  I 
passed  beneath  her.     The  whirring  of  her  wings  arrested 
my  attention,  when,  after  a  short  pause,  I  had  the  good 
luck  to  see,  through  an  opening  in  the  leaves,  the  bird  re- 
turn to  her  nest,  which  appeared  like  a  mere  wart  or  ex- 
crescence on  a  small  branch.     The  humming-bird,  unlike 
all  others,  does  not  alight  upon  the  nest,  but  flies  into  it. 
She  enters  it  as  quick  as  a  flash,  but  as  light  as  any  feather. 
Two  eggs  are  the  complement.     They  are  perfectly  white, 
and  so  frail  that  only  a  woman's  fingers  may  touch  them. 
Incubation  lasts  about  ten  days.     In  a  week  the  young 
have  flown. 

3.  But  the  nest  of  nests,  the  ideal  nest,  after  we  have 
left  the  deep  woods,  is  unquestionably  that  of  the  Balti- 
more oriole.     It  is  the  only  perfectly  pensile  nest  we  have. 
The  nest  of  the  orchard  oriole  is  indeed  mainly  so,  but  this 
bird  generally  builds  lower  and  shallower,  more  after  the 
manner  of  the  vireos. 

4.  The  Baltimore  oriole  loves  to  attach  its  nest  to  the 
swaying  branches  of  the  tallest  elms,  making  no  attempt  at 
concealment,  but  satisfied  if  the  position  be  high  and  the 


220  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

branch  pendent.  This  nest  would  seem  to  cost  more  time 
and  skill  than  any  other  bird-structure.  A  peculiar  flax- 
like  substance  seems  to  be  always  sought  after  and  always 
found.  The  nest,  when  completed,  assumes  the  form  of  a 
large,  suspended,  gourd-shaped  drop.  The  walls  are  thin 
but  firm,  and  proof  against  the  most  driving  rain.  The 
mouth  is  hemmed  or  overhanded  with  horse-hair,  and  the 
sides  are  usually  sewed  through  and  through  with  the 
same. 

5.  Not  particular  as  to  the  matter  of  secrecy,  the  bird 
is  not  particular  as  to  material,  so  that  it  be  of  the  nature 
of  strings  or  threads.  A  lady  friend  once  told  me  that, 
while  working  by  an  open  window,  one  of  these  birds  ap- 
proached during  her  momentary  absence,  and,  seizing  a 
skein  of  some  kind  of  thread  or  yarn,  made  off  with  it  to 
its  half -finished  nest.  But  the  perverse  yarn  caught  fast 
in  the  branches,  and,  in  the  bird's  efforts  to  extricate  it, 
got  hopelessly  tangled.  She  tugged  away  at  it  all  day,  but 
was  finally  obliged  to  content  herself  with  a  few  detached 
portions.  The  fluttering  strings  were  an  eyesore  to  her 
ever  after,  and,  passing  and  repassing,  she  would  pause  to 
give  them  a  spiteful  jerk,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  There  is 
that  confounded  yarn  that  gave  me  so  much  trouble." 

John  BurrougJis. 


BIRD-WAYS. 

1.  I  BELIEVE  we  allow  that  birds  are  very  highly  organ- 
ized creatures — next  to  man,  they  say.  We,  with  our 
weary  feet  plodding  always  on  the  earth,  our  heavy  arms 
pinioned  close  to  our  sides,  look  at  this  live  creature  with 
thinnest  wing  cutting  the  fine  air  !  We,  slow  in  word,  slow 
in  thought,  look  at  this  quivering  flame,  kindled  by  some 
more  passionate  glance  of  Nature  !  Next  to  man  ?  Yes,  we 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          221 

might  say,  next  above.  Had  it  not  been  for  that  fire  we 
stole  one  day,  that  Promethean  spark,  hidden  in  the  ashes, 
kept  alight  ever  since,  it  had  gone  hard  with  us.  Nature 
might  have  kept  her  pet,  her  darling,  high,  high  above  us 
—almost  out  of  reach  of  our  dull  senses. 

2.  What  is  our  boasted  speech,  with  its  harsh,  rude 
sounds,  to  their  gushing  melody  ?    We  learn  music,  cer- 
tainly, with  much  pains  and  care.     The  bird  can  not  tell 
whether  it  be  A  sharp  or  B  flat,  but  he  sings.     Our  old 
friend — the  friend  of  our  childhood — Mr.  White  of  Selborne 
(who  had  attended  much  to  the  life  and  conversation  of 
birds),  says  :  "  Their  language  is  very  elliptical  ;  little  is 
said,  and  much  is  meant  and  understood."    Something  like 
a  lady's  letter,  is  it  not  ? 

3.  How  wise  we  might  grow  if  only  we  could  "the  bird 
language  rightly  spell "  !     In  the  olden  times  we  are  told 
the  caliphs  and  viziers  always  listened  to  what  the  birds 
said  about  it  before  they  undertook  any  new  enterprise.     I 
have  often  thought  I  heard  wise  old  folk  discoursing  when 
a  company  of  hens  were  busy  on  the  side-hill  scratching 
and  clucking  together.     Perchance  some  day  we  shall  pick 
up  a  leaf  of  that  herb  which  shall  open  our  ears  to  these 
our  inarticulate  sounds. 

4.  Why  may  we  not  (just  for  this  summer)  believe  in 
transmigrations,  and  find  some  elder  civilization  embodied 
in  this  community  of  birds — all  those  lost  arts  taken  wings, 
not  to  fly  away,  but  to  come  flitting  and,  building  in  our 
trees,  picking  crumbs  from  our  door-steps  ? 

5.  Do  they  say  birds  are  limited  ?    Who  are  we  that 
set  bounds  to  this  direct  knowledge,  this  instinct  ?    Mathe- 
matically constructive  they  certainly  are.    What  bold  archi- 
tect has  builded  so  snug,  so  airy  a  house — well  concealed, 
and  yet  with  a  good  outlook  ?    We  make  our  dwellings 
conspicuous  ;  they  hide  their  pretty  art. 

6.  We  wiseacres,  who  stay  at  home  instead  of  following 


222  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  seasons  round  the  globe,  should  learn  the  art  of  making 
happy  homes ;  yet  what  housekeeper  will  not  hang  her 
head  in  shame  and  despair  to  see  this  nice  adaptation  of 
use  to  wants,  shown  each  year  in  multitudes  of  nests  ? 
Now,  only  look  at  it !  always  just  room  enough — none  to 
spare.  First,  the  four  or  five  eggs  lie  comfortably  in  the 
small  round  at  the  bottom  of  the  nest,  with  room  enough 
for  the  mother-robin  to  give  them  the  whole  warmth  of 
her  broad,  red  breast,  her  sloping  back  and  wings  making 
a  rain-proof  roof  over  her  jewels.  Then  the  callow  young- 
lings raise  a  little  higher  into  the  wider  circle.  Next  the 
fledglings  brim  the  cup ;  at  last  it  runs  over ;  four  large, 
clumsy  robins  flutter  to  the  ground  with  much  noise,  much 
anxious  calling  from  papa  and  mamma — much  good  advice, 
no  doubt. 

7.  They  are  fairly  turned  out  to  shift  for  themselves ; 
with  the  same  wise,  unfathomable  eyes  which  have  mir- 
rored the  round  world  for  so  many  years,  which  know  all 
things,  say  nothing  older  than  time,  lively  and  quick  as  to- 
day ;  with  the  same  touching  melody  in  their  long,  monoto- 
nous call ;  soon  with  the  same  power  of  wing ;  next  year 
to  build  a  nest  with  the  same  wise  economy,  each  young 
robin  carrying  in  his  own  swelling,  bulging  breast  the  model 
of  the  hollow  circle,  the  cradle  of  other  young  robins.     So 
you  see  it  is  a  nest  within  a  nest — a  whole  nest  of  nests. 
Like  Vishnu  Saima's  fables,  or  Scheherazade's  stories,  you 
can  never  find  where  one  leaves  off  and  another  begins, 
they  shut  so  one  into  the  other.     No  wonder  the  children 
and  philosophers  are  they  who  ask  whether  the  egg  comes 
from  the  bird,  or  the  bird  from  the  egg.    Yes,  it  is  a  world- 
circle,  a  home-circle — this  nest. 

8.  You  remember  that  little,  old,  withered  man  who 
used  to  bring  us  eggs.     The  boys,  you  know,  called  him 
Egg- Pop.     When  the  thrifty  housewife  complained  of  the 
small  size  of  his  ware,  he  always  said,  t '  Yes,  marm,  they 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          223 

be  small,  but  they  be  monstrous  full."  Yes,  the  pack- 
ing of  the  nest  is  close,  but  closer  is  the  packing  of  the 
egg.  "  As  full  as  an  egg  of  meat  "  is  a  wise  proverb. 

9.  Let  us  look  at  these  first-fruits  which  the  bountiful 
spring  hangs  on  our  trees.     "To  break  the  egg-shell  after 
the  meat  is  out  we  are  taught  in  our  childhood,  and  prac- 
tice in  all  our  lives  ;  which,  nevertheless,  is  but  a  supersti- 
tious relic,  according  to  the  judgment  of  Pliny,  and  the  in- 
tent hereof  was  to  prevent  witchcraft  (to  keep  the  fairies 
out)  ;  for,  lest  witches  should  draw  or  prick  their  names 
therein,   and  veneficiously  mischief    their    persons,   they 
broke  the   shell,  as  Dalecampius  has  observed."     This  is 
what  Sir  Thomas  Browne  tells  us  about  egg-shells,  and  Dr. 
Wren  adds  :  "  Lest  they  (the  witches),  perchance,  might  use 
them  for  boates  to  sayle  in  by  night. "     But  I,  who  have  no 
fear  of  witches,  would  not  break  them — rather  use  them  ; 
try  what  an  untold  variety  of  forms  we  may  make  out  of 
this  delicate  oval. 

10.  By  a  little  skillful  turning  and  reversing,  putting 
on  a  handle,  a  lip  here,  a  foot  there,  always  following  the 
sacred  oval,  we  shall  get  a  countless  array  of  pitchers  and 
vases  of  perfect  finished  form,  handsome  enough  to  be  the 
oval  for  a  king's  name.     Should  they  attempt  to  copy  our 
rare  vases — in  finest  parian,  alabaster,  or  jasper — their  art 
would  fail  to  hit  the  delicate  tints  and  smoothness  of  this 
fine  shell ;  and  then  those  dots  and  dashes,  careless  as  put 
on  by  a  master's  hand  ! 

11.  Are  not  these  rare  lines  ?    They  look  to  me  as  wise 
as  hieroglyphics.     Who  knows  what  rhyme  and  reason  are 
written  there  —  what  subtile   wisdom  rounded  into   this 
small  curve — repeated  on  the  breasts  and  backs  of  the  birds 
— their  own  notes,  it  may  be,  photographed  on  their  swell- 
ing breasts  like  the  musical  notes  on  the  harp-shell — writ- 
ten in  bright,  almost  audible  colors,  on  the  petals  of  the 
flowers — harmonies,  melodies  for  ear  and  eye  ?     Has  this 


224:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

language — older  than  Erse,  older  than  Sanscrit — ever  got 
translated  ?  I  am  afraid,  dear,  the  key  has  been  turned  in 
the  lock  and  thrown  into  the  well. 

12.  The  ornithologists  tell  us  that  some  birds  build 
nicer  nests,  sing  sweeter  songs,  than  their  companions  of 
the  same  species.     Can  experience  add  wisdom  to  instinct  ? 
or  is  it  the  right  of  the  elder-born — the  birthright  of  the 
young  robin  who  first  breaks  the  shell  ?    Who  has  rightly 
looked  into  these  things  ? 

13.  I  half  remember  the  story  of  a  beautiful  princess 
who  had  all  imaginable  wealth  in  her  stately  palace,  itself 
built  up  of  rare  and  costly  jewels.      She  had  everything 
that  heart  could  desire — everything  but  a  roc's  egg.     Her 
mind  was  contracted  with  sorrow  till  she  could  procure 
this  one  ornament  more  to  her  splendors.    I  think  it  turned 
out  that  the  palace  itself  was  built  within  the  roc's  egg. 
These  birds  are  immense,  and  take  up  three  elephants  at  a 
time  in  their  powerful  talons  (almost  as  many  as  Gordon 
Cummmgs  himself  on  a  good  day's  hunt),  and  their  eggs  are 
like  domes. 

14.  Now,  do  not  you  be  like  the  foolish  princess,  and 
desire  a  roc's  egg  ;  it  will  prove  a  stone — the  egg  of  a  rock 
indeed.    Be  content,  rather,  with  the  ostrich-egg  I  send  you. 
With  your  own  slender  fingers  lift  the  lid ;  pretty,  is  it  not, 
the  tea-service  I  send  you  ?    The  tidy  warblers  threw  out 
the  emptied  shells  ;  one  by  one  I  picked  them  up,  and  have 
made  cups  and  saucers,  bowls  and  pitchers  for  you.     A 
roc's  egg  never  held  anything  one  half  so  fine. 

Atlantic  Monthly. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          225 


THE    BANK-SWALLOW. 

1.  THE  bird  which  is  the  subject  of  this  sketch  is  fa- 
miliar to  all  who  walk  in  green  pastures  and  beside  still 
waters ;  for  in  such  haunts  do  the  bank-swallows  congre- 
gate in  merry  companies,  making  up  for  their  want  of  com- 
panionship with  man  by  a  large  sociability  among  them- 
selves.    Conservator  of  ancient  ways,  it  is  almost  the  only 
swallow  which  has  not  attached  itself  to  humanity,  as  soon 
as  it  had  an  opportunity,  and  changed  from  a  savage  to  a 
civilized  bird.     Perhaps,  too,  it  has  tried  it  long  ago,  for 
our  bank-swallow  is  a  cosmopolite,  and  has  watched  the 
rise  and  fall  of  all  the  dynasties  and  nationalities  that  have 
grouped  the  centuries  into  eras  from  Nineveh  to  San  Fran- 
cisco. 

2.  They  are  at  present  inhabitants  of  both  continents 
nearly  throughout  their  whole  extent,  in  summer  peopling 
the  banks  of  Alaskan  rivers,  and  in  winter  sporting  them- 
selves in  the  tropical  regions  of  Mexico  and  Central  Amer- 
ica.    So  this  modest  little  band  is  entitled  to  our  respect 
as  a  traveler  at  least ;  and  to  compare  the  habits  and  ap- 
pearance of  the  representatives  in  different  portions  of  the 
globe  becomes  a  most  interesting  study. 

3.  Under   the    name  of   bank-swallow,    sand-swallow, 
sand-martin,  it  is  found  throughout  the  northern  hemi- 
sphere wherever  the  localities  are  favorable  for  building 
their  nests.     In  this  distribution  they  seem  to  have  been 
influenced  by  man,  though  owing  him  no  other  favors  than 
the  incidental   help  of  railroad  cuttings  and   sand-pits, 
which  have  increased  the  sites  suitable  for  excavating,  and 
have  enabled  them  to  spread  inland. 

4.  Where  these  and   other  swallows  spend  the  winter 
was  a  hotly  debated  question  among  ornithologists  at  the 
beginning  of  the  present  century,  some  affirming  that  they 


226 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


migrated  with  the  sun,  while  others,  believing  it  impossible 
that  such  small  and  delicate  birds  could  endure  the  great 
fatigue  and  temperatures  incident  to  such  a  migration, 


-Bank-Swallows  and  their 


held  that  they  regularly  hibernated,  during  the  cold  weath- 
er, sinking  into  the  mud  at  the  bottom  of  ponds,  like 
frogs,  or  curling  up  in  deep,  warm  crannies,  like  bats,  and 
remaining  torpid  until  revived  by  the  warmth  of  spring. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IK  THE  TREES.          227 

5.  Of  this  latter  opinion  was  White,  of  Selborne,  who 
alludes  to  it  again  and  again,  and  Sir  Thomas  Forster  wrote 
a  "  Monograph  of  British  Swallows/'  apparently  with  no 
other  object  than  to  present  the  arguments  for  and  against 
the  theory  of  their  annual  submersion  and  torpidity.     One 
of  the  difficulties  which  the  subme-rsionists  put  in  the  way 
of  the  migrationists  was  the  frequent  accidental  and  iso- 
lated appearance  of  the  swallow  before  its  usual  time — a  fact 
that  has,  in  nearly  every  language,  given  rise  to  the  proverb, 
"One  swallow  does  not  make  a  summer."     The  story  is 
well  known  of  a  thin  brass  plate  having  been  fixed  on  a 
swallow  with  this  inscription  :  "  Prithee,  swallow,  whither 
goest  thou  in  winter  ? "     The  bird  returned  next  spring 
with  the  answer  subjoined  :    "To  Anthony,  of  Athens. 
Why  dost  thou  inquire  ?  " 

6.  Out  of  this  controversy,  evidence  of  their  sudden 
autumnal  adjournment  to  Africa  accumulated  in  England. 
Wilson,  in  this  country,  showed  that  their  advance  could 
be  traced  in  the  spring  from  New  Orleans  to  Lake  Superior 
and  back  again,  and  their  regular  migration  soon  came  to 
be  acknowledged.     Then  attention  was  turned  to  the  sea- 
son, manner,  and  limits  of  their  migrations,  and  it  was 
found  that,  taking  advantage  of  favorable  winds,  immense 
flocks  of  swallows — and  many  other  birds  of  passage  as  well 
— flying  very  high,  passed  each  fall  from  the  coast  of  Eng- 
land to  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  from  Continental  Europe 
across  the  Mediterranean  direct,  whence,  they  spread  south- 
ward almost  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.     No  sooner  had 
the  spring  fairly  opened  than  they  were  suddenly  back 
again,  very  much  exhausted  at  first  with  their  long-sus- 
tained effort,  but  speedily  recuperated  and  "  diligent  in 
business."     Our  own  migrants  winter  in  Central  America 
and  the  West  Indies,  or  still  farther  south. 

7.  Their  flight  is  rapid,  but  unsteady,  "  with  odd  jerks 
.and  vacillations  not  unlike  the  motions  of  a  butterfly,"  as 


228  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

White  describes  it;  and  continues  :  "Doubtless  the  flight 
of  all  hirundines  is  influenced  by  and  adapted  to  the  pecu- 
liar sort  of  insects  which  furnish  their  food.  Hence  it 
would  be  worth  inquiry  to  examine  what  particular  genus 
of  insects  affords  the  principal  food  of  each  respective  spe- 
cies of  swallow."  They  are  constantly  on  the  wing,  skim- 
ming low  over  land  and  loch,  pausing  not  even  to  drink  or 
bathe,  but  simply  dropping  into  some  limpid  lake  as  they 
sweep  by  to  sip  a  taste  of  water,  or  cleanse  their  dirty  coats. 
It  seems  strange,  then,  that  birds  who  sustain  the  unremit- 
ting exertion  of  a  flight  scarcely  less  than  a  hundred  miles 
an  hour  in  speed,  during  the  whole  of  a  long  summer's  day, 
should  not  be  thought  capable  of  a  transition  from  England 
to  Africa. 

8.  The  secret  of  the  local  distribution  of  the  bank-swal- 
low is  the  presence  or  absence  of  vertical  banks  suitable  for 
them  to  penetrate  for  their  burrows  in  which  their  nests 
are  placed.     Firm  sand,  with  no  admixture  of  pebbles,  is 
preferred,  and  in  such  a  bank,  be  it  on  sea-shore,  river- 
bank,  sand-pit,  or  railroad-cutting,  the  face  will  be  fairly 
honey-combed  with  burrows,  and  here  this  charming  and 
graceful  bird   may  be  seen  in  hundreds  and  thousands. 
Their  domiciles  are  usually  very  close  together,  and  the 
wonder  is  how  the  birds  can  distinguish  their  own  doors. 
If  mistakes  do  occur,  I  imagine  they  are  very  polite  about 
it,  for  I  know  of  no  more  peaceable  bird  than  they. 

9.  In  digging  out  their  burrows  they  use  their  hard  and 
sharp  beaks,  like  a  pickaxe,  to  loosen  the  earth,  after  which 
they  remove  it  with  their  claws.     Their  burrows  usually 
slope  slightly  upward,  to  avoid  trouble  from  the  rain,  and 
they  extend  back  from  two  to  ten  feet,  depending  upon 
the  nature  of  the  soil.     The  burrows  will  be  placed  high 
or  low  upon  the  cliff,  as  the  birds  have  to  fear  enemies  from 
above  or  below.     The   time  employed  to  complete  their 
burrows  is  from  four  days  to  two  weeks. 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          229 

10.  The  nests  are  at  the  extremities  of  the  burrows. 
When  the  mother-bird  is  sitting,  you  may  thrust  your  arm 
in  and  seize  her,  and  she  will  scarcely  struggle  or  show  a 
sign  of  life.     The  young  do  not  leave  their  nests  until  able 
to  get  their  own  living.     Sometimes  they  are  pushed  off  by 
their  parents  to  make  room  for  a  new  brood.     As  they  pass 
out  into  the  great  world  upon  inexperienced  wings,  many 
of  them  fall  a  prey  to  the  crows  and  hawks  which  are  con- 
stantly on  the  lookout  for  them.     Those  who  escape  collect 
in  small  companies  and  roost  at  night  among  the  river- 
reeds,  until  the  time  comes  for  their  migration,  when  they 
join  the  elder  companies  and  are  off  over  land  and  sea. 

11.  But  not  the  young  alone  are  exposed  to  enemies. 
It  would  seem  as  though  the  situation  of  the  nest  pre- 
cluded invasion,  yet  if  they  are  near  the  haunts  of  the 
house-sparrow  they  are  sure  to  be  dispossessed  of  their  homes 
by  that  buccaneer.     Snakes,  too,  can  sometimes  reach  their 
holes ;  weasels,  like  that  one  Mr.  Hewitson  tells  us  of,  are 
often  sharp  enough   to  make  their  entree   from   above ; 
school-boys  regard  the  pink-white  eggs  a  fine  prize ;  and, 
last  and  worst  of  all,  the  bank-swallows  are  many  times 
utterly  worried  out  of  their  galleries  by  fleas  and  young 
horse-flies,  which  swarm  and  increase  in  their  nests  until 
the  bird  finds  endurance  no  longer  a  virtue,  and  digs  a  new 

burr°W-  Ernst  Ingersoll. 


JAYS  AND   THEIR    MISSION. 

1.  "  THE  mission  of  birds  "  has  been  a  favorite  study  of 
mine  nearly  seventy  years,  and  loses  none  of  its  interest 
with  the  advancement  of  age.  Before  I  knew  anything  of 
ornithology  as  a  science,  or  had  access  to  the  first  edition 
of  Wilson  in  1813-'14,  I  had  become  familiar  with  the 
common  names  and  habits  of  very  many  of  the  birds  of 


230  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

Connecticut,  and  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1810,  spent 
in  northern  Ohio,  furnished  me  with  a  starting-point  to 
note  the  wonderful  changes  in  the  animal  and  vegetable 
kingdoms,  incidental  to  the  conversion  of  this  State  from 
a  wilderness  into  a  land  of  cities,  villages,  and  cultivated 
farms  —  changes  as  great  and  numerous  as  those  which 
mark  the  transition  of  one  period  into  another  in  geologi- 
cal history. 

2.  In  the  year  1840  I  located  on  my  farm,  bordering  on 
Lake  Erie,  five  miles  west  of  Cleveland.     Every  apple  and 
wild-cherry  tree  in  the  vicinity  was   then  extensively  im- 
paired, disfigured,  and  denuded  of  its  leaves  by  the  bag- 
worm,  called  in  New  England  the  tent-caterpillar,  which 
annually  appeared  in  numerous  colonies.     The  evil  was  so 
extensive    that  even  the  most  thorough  farmers  ceased, 
in  despair,  to  attempt  its  counteraction.     At  that  period  I 
began  to  set  out  evergreen-trees  of  many  species  extensive- 
ly, both  for  the  shelter  and  the  ornament  of  my  grounds — 
an  example    soon  followed  by  several    of    my  neighbors. 
Favorable  soil  and  cultivation   rapidly  developed  stately 
growths,  forest-like,  in  dense  clumps. 

3.  While  these  were  progressing,  extensive  ranges  of  na- 
tive hemlocks  and  pines,  bordering  the  precipitous  banks 
of  Rocky  River,  were  as  rapidly  falling  before  the  axe  and 
cultivation.      These  ranges  are  from  two  to  seven  miles 
west  from  my  locality,  and  had  long  been  a  favorite  resort 
of  the  jay,  as  well  as  numerous  other  birds,  not  to  mention 
quadrupeds  and  reptiles. 

4.  When  my  Norway  spruces  had  attained  to  the  height 
of  some  ten  or  twelve  feet,  I  was  pleased  to  find  them 
occupied  one  spring  by  colonies  of  these  jays,  apparently 
migrating  from  the  perishing  evergreen  forests  along  the 
river,  and  during  the  ensuing  winter  the  new  tenants,  aug- 
mented in    numbers,  made  these   incipient   forests   their 
places  of  abode.     Each  successive  year  found  them  still 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          231 

more  numerous  and  exempt  from  the  interruption  of  their 
enemies,  the  red  squirrel,  blue  racer,  and  idle  gunners,  all 
of  whom  were  abundant  and  destructive  in  their  former 
resorts.  They  soon  became  so  familiar  as  to  feed  about 
our  yards  and  corn-cribs. 

5.  At  the  dawn  of  every  pleasant  day  throughout  the 
year,  the  nesting  season  excepted,  a  stranger  in  my  house 
might  well  suppose  that  all  the  axles  in  the  county  were 
screeching  aloud  for  lubrication,  hearing  the  harsh  and 
discordant  utterances  of  these  birds.     During  the  day  the 
poultry  might  be  frequently  seen  running  into  their  hid- 
ing-places, and  the  gobbler  with  his  upturned  eye  search- 
ing the  heavens  for  the  enemy,  all  excited  and  alarmed  by 
the  mimic  utterances  of  the  adept  ventriloquists,  the  jays 
simulating  the  cries  of  the  red-shouldered  and  the  red- 
tailed  hawks. 

6.  The  domestic  circle  of  the  barn-yard  evidently  never 
gained  any  insight  into  the  deception  by  experience ;  for, 
though  the  trick  was  repeated  every  few  hours,  the  excite- 
ment would  always  be  re-enacted. 

7.  During  the  period  of  incubation  silence  reigned ;  not 
a  note  or  utterance  was  heard  ;  and  it  required  close  scru- 
tiny to  discover  the  numerous  individual  jays  concealed  in 
the  dense  clumps  of  limbs  and  foliage.     If,  however,  a 
stranger,  a  dog,  cat,  hawk,  or  owl  chanced  to  invade  these 
evergreen  groups,  the  scene  rapidly  changed. 

8.  With  my  person  they  became  so  familiar  that  I  could 
closely  approach  them,  and  sit  for  hours  under  the  shade 
of  these  trees  without  exciting  their  fears.     A  family  ceme- 
tery occupies  a  place  beneath  the  evergreens.    On  one  occa- 
sion a  lady,  pensively  bent  over  the  grave  of  a  departed 
friend,  strewing  flowers,  received  a  smart  blow  upon  the 
head.     Alarmed,   she  arose,   expecting  to  discover  some 
evil-disposed  person  in  the  vicinity.     Her  eye  could  not 
ascertain  the  source  of  the  blow,  and  she  resumed  her  oc- 


232  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

cupation,  when  the  blow  was  renewed,  and  she  soon  saw 
her  assailant  perched  on  a  limb  just  overhead,  threatening 
to  renew  the  contest.  Near  by  was  a  female  bird,  brood- 
ing over  a  nest  of  young,  and  angrily  watching  the  intru- 
der. 

9.  Soon  after  they  had  emigrated  to  my  evergreens,  I 
once  noticed  one  of  the  birds  engaged  in  tearing  open  a 
nest  of  the  bag-worm  on  an  apple-tree.     Thinking  the  act 
was   a  mere    destructive   impulse,    I  was  about  walking 
away,  when  the  bird,  with  its  bill  apparently  filled  with 
several  living  and  contorting  larvae,  changed  its  position  to 
a  tree  close  by  where  I  was  standing.     After  several  nerv- 
ous and  angry  bows  of  the  head  and  flirts  of  the  wings,  it 
eyed  me  sternly,  and  seemed  to  say,  "You  are  inquisitive 
and  meddling  with  that  which  is  none  of  your  business. 
We  wish  to  be  let  alone."     Its  next  removal  was  to  an  ad- 
jacent black-spruce-tree,  where  I  could  plainly  see  it  dis- 
tributing the  captive  bag-worms  to  sundry  open  and  up- 
lifted mouths. 

10.  From  this  hint  I  was  led  closely  to  watch  the  fur- 
ther proceedings  of  the  community.     Before   the  young 
birds  had  passed  from  the  care  of  the  parents,  most  of  the 
worms'  nests  had  been  broken  into,  many  were  torn  into 
threads,  and  the  number  of  occupants  evidently  diminished. 
Two  or  three  years  afterward  not  a  worm  was  to  be  seen  in 
that  neighborhood,  and  more  recently  I  have  searched  for 
it  in  vain,  in  order  to  rear  some  cabinet  specimens  of  the 
moth.     In  several  adjacent  townships  it  is  said  to  be  still 
common. 

11.  Early  in  the  month  of  April,  two  years  since,  my 
attention  was  awakened  by  a  commotion  among  the  birds 
in  my  evergreens.     It  involved  not  only  jays  and  crow- 
blackbirds,  but  robins  and  bluebirds.     Combatants  seemed 
to  have  gathered  from  the  whole   country  around.     At 
times  half  a  dozen  of  these  several  species  would  engage  in 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          233 

a  contest,  screaming,  biting,  and  pulling  out  feathers  ;  and 
at  length,  in  many  instances,  the  birds,  lost  in  rage,  would 
actually  fall  to  the  ground.  For  two  days  this  fight  con- 
tinued. At  length  the  jays  disappeared,  and  I  have  not 
seen  half  a  dozen  individuals  on  my  farm  since  that  period. 
A  numerous  colony  of  crow-blackbirds  have  reared  their 
young  there  during  the  two  past  seasons,  and  have  been 
equally  assiduous  in  collecting  worms  of  different  species. 
Whether  the  abandoning  of  the  locality  by  the  jays  was 
owing  exclusively  to  the  intrusion  of  the  blackbirds,  or  in 
part  to  the  scarcity  of  their  favorite  bag-worms,  I  can  not 
well  determine.  Jared  p^  Kirtland^ 


SUMMARY   JUSTICE. 

1.  IK  his  later  years  the  celebrated  Cuvier  loved  to  re- 
count the  incident  which  first  turned  his  attention  to  the 
study  of  natural  history.     While  young,  and  in  want,  he 
was  engaged  as  tutor,  and  with  his  pupils  inhabited  an  old 
chateau  in  the  country.     Cuvier's  room  looked  toward  the 
garden,  and  early  each  morning  he  was  accustomed  to  open 
his  window  and  breathe  the  fresh  air  before  commencing 
the  instruction  of  his  somewhat  undisciplined  pupils.     One 
morning  he  remarked  two  swallows  building  a  nest  in  the 
outer  angle  of  his  small  casement.     The  male  bird  brought 
moist  clay  in  his  beak,  which  the  hen,  as  it  were,  kneaded 
together,  and,  with  the  addition  of  straws  and  bits  of  hay, 
formed  their  future  home.      Once  the  frame-work  was 
completed,  both  birds  hastened  to  line  the  interior  with 
feathers,  wool,  and  dried  leaves ;  and  then  taking  flight 
together  into  a  neighboring  wood,  they  did  not  return  to 
their  nest  until  after  the  lapse  of  several  days. 

2.  Meantime,   some   important  events  had  happened. 


234  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

While  the  two  swallows  were  so  busily  employed  in  con- 
structing their  home,  Cuvier  had  remarked  two  sparrows 
perched  on  a  neighboring  chimney,  who  seemed  to  watch 
the  progress  of  affairs  with  much  curiosity.  The  treach- 
erous object  of  this  surveillance  speedily  became  apparent, 
for  no  sooner  had  the  poor  swallows  left  the  coast  clear 
than  the  pair  of  sparrows  took  possession  of  the  nest,  and 
established  themselves  in  it  as  comfortably  as  though  it  had 
been  their  own  property.  Cuvier  remarked  that  they 
never  absented  themselves  together  from  the  nest;  one 
always  remained  on  the  watch,  with  its  sturdy  bill  pro- 
truded through  the  entrance,  prepared  to  exclude  every 
visitor  except  its  mate. 

3.  At  the  end  of  the  honeymoon  the  rightful  owners 
returned.     What  was  their  surprise  to  find  their  nest  pre- 
occupied !     The  cock  flew  indignantly  against  his  dwelling, 
to  expel  the  intruders,  but  was  met  by  the  formidable  beak 
of  the  male  sparrow,  which  quickly  repulsed  the  unlucky 
proprietor  with  a  bleeding    head    and    ruffled    feathers. 
Trembling  with  rage  and  shame,  and  his  bright  eye  dart- 
ing fire,  he  returned  to  his  bride,  perched  on  a  green  bough, 
and  seemed  for  some  moments  to  hold  an  anxious  colloquy 
with  her.     Then  they  took  flight  together,  and  soon  disap- 
peared. 

4.  Presently  the  hen-sparrow  returned,  and  her  hus- 
band began,  as  Cuvier  conjectured,  to  give  her  an  animated 
account  of  his  adventure,  accompanying  the  recital  with 
certain  curious  little  cries,  which  might  well  pass  for  de- 
risive laughter.     Be  that  as  it  may,  the  prudent  pair  did 
not  waste  much  time  in  chattering,  but  hastened  out  in 
turns  to  collect  and   store  up  a  quantity  of  provisions. 
This  accomplished,  they  both  remained  within,  and  now 
two  stout  beaks  were  placed  ready  to  defend  the  entrance. 
Cries  resounded  in  the  air ;  crowds  of  swallows  began  to 
assemble  on  the  roof.     Cuvier  recognized  in  the  midst  of 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          235 

them  the  expelled  householders  making  their  wrongs  known 
to  each  fresh  arrival. 

5.  Ere  long  there  were  assembled  in  full  conclave  up- 
ward of  two  hundred  swallows.     While  they  were  chatter- 
ing in  a  style  that  fully  rivaled  the  performances  of  many 
speakers  in  more  ambitious  and  celebrated  meetings,  a  cry 
of  distress  was  heard   from  one  of  the  window-sills.     A 
young  swallow,  tired,  no  doubt,  of  the  long  parliamentary 
debate,  had  betaken  himself  to  the  pursuit  of  some  flies 
who  were  buzzing  about  the  window.     Cuvier's  pupils  had 
placed  a  snare  on  the  sill,  and  the  poor  little  bird  found 
one  of  its  slender  legs  entangled  by  the  cruel  horse-hair. 

6.  At  the  cry  of  the  captive,  about  twenty  of  his  breth- 
ren flew  toward  him,  and  tried  to  set  him  free  ;  but  in  vain. 
Each  effort  only  served  to  tighten  his  bonds,  and  so  in- 
crease his  pain.     Suddenly  the  swallows,  as  if  with  one 
consent,  took  flight,  and,  wheeling  in  the  air,  came  one  by 
one  and  gave  a  sharp  peck  at  the  snare,  which,  after  re- 
peated pulls,  snapped  in  two,  and  the  free  bird  flew  joyously 
away  with  his  kind  companions.     During  this  scene,  which 
passed  within  a  few  yards  of  Cuvier,  and  at  about  the  same 
distance  as  the  usurped  nest,  the  tutor  remained  motion- 
less, and  the  two  sparrows  never  once  stirred  their  threat- 
ening, protruded  beaks. 

7.  Suddenly,  and  swift  as  thought,  flew  a  host  of  swal- 
lows against  the  nest :  each  had  his  bill  filled  with  mud, 
which  he  discharged  against  the  entranee,  and  then  gave 
place  to  another,  who  repeated  the  same  manoeuvre.     This 
they   managed   to   accomplish   while   two    inches   distant 
from  the  nest,  so  as  to  keep  out  of  reach  of  the  beleaguered 
sparrows.     Indeed,  the  latter  were  so  effectually  blinded 
by  the  first  discharge  of  mud  that  they  no  longer  thought 
of   defending  themselves.     Meantime,  the  swallows   con- 
tinued to  heap  mud  on  the  nest,  until  it  was  completely 
covered  :  the  opening  would  have  been  quite  choked  up 


236  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

but  for  the  desperate  efforts  made  by  the  sparrows,  who 
by  several  convulsive  shocks  contrived  to  shake  off  some  of 
the  pellets.  But  a  detachment  of  the  implacable  swallows 
perched  on  the  nest,  and  with  their  beaks  and  claws 
smoothed  and  pressed  down  the  tough  clay  over  the  open- 
ing, and  at  length  succeeded  in  closing  it  hermetically. 
Then  were  heard  from  hundreds  of  little  throats  cries  of 
vengeance  and  of  victory  ! 

8.  But  the  swallows  did  not  end  their  work  here. 
They  hastened  to  bring  from  all  directions  materials  for  a 
second  nest,  which  they  constructed  over  the  blocked-up 
entrance  of  the  first  one  ;  and,  in  two  hours  after  the  exe- 
cution of  the  sparrows,  the  new  nest  was  inhabited  by  the 
ejected  swallows.  Inexorable  justice  was  now  satisfied. 
Not  only  were  the  unfortunate  sparrows  doomed  to  expiate 
their  crime  by  a  lingering  death,  but  they  were  forced 
during  their  torments  to  listen  to  the  joyful  song  of  the 
two  swallows,  the  cause  of  their  execution. 

Chambers' 's  Journal. 


THE    BIRD   OF   NIGHT. 

1.  THE  owls  are  rapacious  birds,  and,  in  company  with  all 
the  true  birds  of  prey,  belong  to  the  great  order  Raptores. 
The  order  branches  into  two  large  groups,  known,  respec- 
tively, as  the  diurnal  and  the  nocturnal  birds  of  prey.     To 
the  Diurnes  belong  the  vultures,  hawks,  and  eagles ;  to  the 
Nocturnes  belong  the  owls. 

2.  If  Mrs.  Malaprop  can  not  see  why  the  owl  is  a  "  rap- 
turous bird,"  she  can  admit  its  claim  to  openness  of  coun- 
tenance.    Once  seen,  the  owl  can  never  be  mistaken  ;  its 
flat,  pussy  face,  and  large,  brassy  cat-eyes,  set  square  in 
front  of  the  head,  are  so  un bird-like.     It  was  a  London 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          237 

holiday  ;  a  shop-woman  and  her  daughter  stood  before  the 
cage  of  nocturnal  Raptor -es  at  the  "  Zoo."  Said  the  elder  : 
"See  these  h eagles  !"  to  which  the  younger  replied  :  "Them 
isn't  heagles,  they're  'awks."  "  If  you  please,"  interposed 
a  servant  standing  near,  "  them  isn't  heagles  nor  'awks, 
they're  howls.  My  maister's  son  once  kept  one." 

3.  The  owls  are  found  nearly  the  whole  world  over.     The 
books  mention  about  two  hundred  species,  as  species  are  yet 
understood,  and  queer  specimens  are  they,  every  one.     As 
a  rule,  how  trim,  spruce,  compact,  and  graceful  are  the  fal- 
cons, the  typical  birds  of  prey !     How  fluffy,  squatty,  and 
dowdyish  is  the  typical  owl  !     Whether  it  means  little  or 
much,  it  is  thus  with  the  diurnal  and  the  nocturnal  Lepi- 
doptera.     As  the  elder  naturalist  said  :  "If  any  analogy  is 
allowable  between   different  tribes  of  animals,    the  owls 
might  be  said  to  resemble  moths  "  (the  night-fliers),  "  and 
to  differ  from  the  diurnal  birds  of  prey  as  these  do  from  the 
butterflies  "  (the  day-fliers).     These  birds  have  been  called 
"feathered  cats,"  for  the  owl,  cat-like,  prowls  at  night, 
and  steals  upon  its  victim  by  a  quick,  fluffy,  still  swoop  or 
spring.     With  the  silent  movements  of  a  spirit,  and  aToice 
so  supernatural,  and  with  certain  associations  of  time  and 
place,  the  effect  is  appalling. 

4.  The  owls  are  intensely  carnivorous.     The  diminutive 
ones  will  feed  largely  upon  insects,  and  some  of  the  large 
kinds  will  eat  them  occasionally.     But  nature  has  made 
them  for  prowlers,  and  as  such  we  find  them  fond  of  flesh, 
fowl,  and  fish.     So  immense  is  their  destruction  of  the 
smaller  rodents  that  they  are  worth  millions  to  the  agri- 
culture of  our  country.     They  are  the  feathered  Nimrods 
of  the  night.     Even  the  American  hare,  the  rabbit  wrongly 
called,  falls  an  easy  victim. 

5.  Some  of  the  owls  can  fish,  too.     But  whether  hunt- 
ing, fowling,  or  fishing,  they  lack  the  style  of  doing  it 
which  belongs  to  the  falcon  tribe ;  and  when  out  bugging 


238 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


A  Group  of  Owls. 


it  is  but  a  bungling  business  compared  with  the  profession- 
al rdle  of  the  insectivorous  birds.  Their  angling,  too,  is 
simply  upon  quiet  waters.  They  can  not  brave  "  the  mu- 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          239 

tinous  winds  'twixt  the  green  sea  and  the  azured  vault." 
In  common  with  all  the  Raptores,  they  catch  their  prey 
with  the  talons,  not  with  the  beak.  In  eating  birds,  the 
owl  prefers  to  tear  his  prey  in  piecemeal,  but  a  small  ro- 
dent is  swallowed  entire,  being  usually  tossed  into  the  air 
to  adjust  its  position,  so  that  it  may  fall  head  first  into  the 
bird's  mouth.  It  disappears  in  one  astonishing  gulp.  A 
second  gulp  is  usually  needed,  as  the  tail  is  often  after  the 
first  left  hanging  from  one  side  of  the  mouth. 

6.  The   great    horned   owl  has  usually  a  white  collar 
around  its  neck.     It  is  truly  a  magnificent  bird,  of  indomi- 
table spirit  and  large  size,  being  about  two  feet  in  length. 
It  does  not  migrate,  and  is  found  pretty  much  all  over 
North  America.      It  breeds  in   winter  and   early  spring, 
nesting  in  hollow  trees  and  crevices  of  rocks,  and  is  said 
to  build  also  on  some  large  branch,  or  in  the  crotch  of  a 
tree.     Dr.  Coues  gives  an  interesting  account  of  two  un- 
fledged ones,  which  he  captured  in  Dakota,  in  the  month 
of  June.     They  were  his  pets  for  the  whole  summer,  and 
traveled  with  him  several  hundred  miles.     For  a  while 
they  had  two  different  notes,  the  one  of  hunger  or  loneli- 
ness, a  querulous,  explosive  syllable,  and  the  other  a  harsh 
cry  of  anger,  or  remonstrance,  when  rudely  handled. 

7.  They  did  not  begin  to  hoot  until  they  were  about 
four  months  old,  and  then  only  while  at  liberty  during  the 
night ;  for,  says  he,  they  became  so  thoroughly  tame  that, 
as  their  wings  grew,  enabling  them  to  take  short  flights,  I 
used  to  release  them  in  the  evening  from  the  tether  by 
which  they  were  confined.     They  enjoyed  the  liberty,  and 
eventually  would  stay  away  all  night,  doubtless  foraging 
for  themselves,  for  their  natural  prey,  and  returning  for 
shelter  behind  my  tent  in  the  morning. 

8.  The  little  horned  owl  is  the  Scops  asio,  and  is  vari- 
ously known  as  the  American  screech-owl,  the  red  owl,  and 
the  mottled  owl.     It  is  but  ten  inches  long,  though  that  is 


24:0  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

even  two  inches  longer  than  its  European  relative.  It 
ranges  through  all  the  Atlantic  States,  even  up  to  Green- 
land. Nor  is  it  driven  away  by  the  clearing  off  of  the 
woods ;  and  now  more  than  ever  it  seeks  to  be  a  winter 
denizen  of  the  city  parks,  attracted,  doubtless,  by  the 
abundance  of  English  sparrows,  which  afford  it  food. 

9.  This  little   screech-owl,  with   its  staring  eyes  and 
pert,  ear-like  tufts,  has  a  decidedly  cattish  look.    In  truth, 
it  wears  a  grave,  grimalkin  cast  of  countenance,  which,  in 
a  bird,  is  quite  uncanny  and  unnatural.     A  mounted  speci- 
men in  my  parlor  was  an  object  of  dread  to  a  little  girl 
visiting  us  from  the  city.     It  availed  nothing  to  tell  the 
child  that  little  Motley  would  not  hurt  her,  while  the  un- 
bird-like  little  thing  would  stare  at  her  so. 

10.  To  the  naturalist  Scops  asio  has  been  a  provoking 
elf.     It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  sage-looking  little  fellow 
did  not  scoff  behind  his  gravity  at  these  learned  men,  or 
count  any  of  them  asinine  whom  he  so  misled  by  his  ec- 
centric freakiness  in  dress.    Coming  before  a  man  of  science 
at  one  time  wearing  a  suit  of  sober  frieze,  again  appearing 
in  mottled  gray,  and  anon  clad  gayly  in  tawny  red,  how 
ludicrously  easy  and  inviting  was  the  trick  of  specie-mak- 
ing !     Well,  that  controversy  is  over  now,  and  to  write  the 
strife  down  as  history  would  be  enough  to  make  Motley 
bristle  to  his  toes. 


THE   OWL-CRITIC. 

1.   "Wno  stuffed  that  white  owl  ?  "     No  one  spoke  in  the 

shop ; 

The  barber  was  busy,  and  he  couldn't  stop  ; 
The  customers,  waiting  their  turns,  were  all  reading 
The  "Daily,"  the  "Herald,"  the  "Post,"  little  heeding 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES. 

The  young  man  who  blurted  out  such  a  blunt  question  ; 
Not  one  raised  a  head,  or  even  made  a  suggestion ; 
And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

2.  "  Don't  you  see,  Mister  Brown," 
Cried  the  youth,  with  a  frown, 

"  How  wrong  the  whole  thing  is, 
How  preposterous  each  wing  is, 

How  flattened  the  head  is,  how  jammed  down  the  neck  is — 
In  short,  the  whole  owl,  what  an  ignorant  wreck  'tis  ? 
I  make  no  apology  ; 
I've  learned  owl-eology. 

I've  passed  days  and  nights  in  a  hundred  collections, 
And  can  not  be  blinded  to  any  deflections 
Arising  from  unskillful  fingers  that  fail 
To  stuff  a  bird  right,  from  his  beak  to  his  tail. 
Mister  Brown  !  Mister  Brown  ! 
Do  take  that  bird  down, 

Or  you'll  soon  be  the  laughing-stock  all  over  town  ! " 
And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

3.  "  I've  studied  owls, 
And  other  night  fowls, 
And  I  tell  you 

What  I  know  to  be  true  : 
An  owl  can  not  roost 
With  his  limbs  so  unloosed , 
No  owl  in  this  world 
Ever  had  his  claws  curled, 
Ever  had  his  legs  slanted, 
Ever  had  his  bill  canted, 
Ever  had  his  neck  screwed 
Into  that  attitude. 
He  can't  do  it,  because 

'Tis  against  all  bird  laws. 
11 


242  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

Anatomy  teaches, 
Ornithology  preaches, 
An  owl  has  a  toe 
That  can't  turn  out  so  ! 
I've  made  the  white  owl  my  study  for  years, 
And  to  see  such  a  job  almost  moves  me  to  tears  ! 
Mister  Brown,  I'm  amazed 
You  should  be  so  gone  crazed 
As  to  put  up  a  bird 
In  that  posture  absurd  ! 

To  look  at  that  owl  really  brings  on  a  dizziness  ; 
The  man  who  stuffed  him  don't  half  know  his  busi 
ness!" 
And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

4.  "  Examine  those  eyes. 
I'm  filled  with  surprise 
Taxidermists  should  pass 
Off  on  you  such  poor  glass  ; 
So  unnatural  they  seem, 
They'd  make  Audubon  scream 
And  John  Burroughs  laugh 
To  encounter  such  chaff. 

Do  take  that  bird  down  ; 

Have  him  stuffed  again,  Brown  ! " 

And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

5.  "With  some  sawdust  and  bark 
I  could  stuff  in  the  dark 

An  owl  better  than  that. 

I  could  make  an  old  hat 

Look  more  like  an  owl 

Than  that  horrid  fowl, 

Stuck  up  there  so  stiff  like  a  side  of  coarse  leather. 

In  fact,  about  him  there's  not  one  natural  feather, " 


OTHER  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  TREES.          243 

6.  Just  then,  with  a  wink  and  a  sly  normal  lurch, 
The  owl,  very  gravely,  got  down  from  his  perch, 
Walked  round,  and  regarded  his  fault-finding  critic 
(Who  thought  he  was  stuffed)  with  a  glance  analytic, 
And  then  fairly  hooted,  as  if  he  should  say  : 
"  Your  learning's  at  fault  this  time,  anyway ; 
Don't  waste  it  again  on  a  live  bird,  I  pray. 
I'm  an  owl  ;  you're  another.     Sir  Critic,  good  day  ! " 
And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

James  T.  Fields. 


PART   X. 
STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS. 

THE    FLAMINGO. 

1.  THE  coasts  of  Florida,  with  semi-tropical  and  nearly 
uniform  climate,  are  the  favorite  resorts  of  many  kinds  of 
aquatic  birds  which  are  not  found  in  Northern  waters. 
Conspicuous  among  these  are  numerous  wading  birds  which 
have  their  homes  along  the  lagoons  and  shallow  waters  of 
the  bays.     Early  in  the  morning,  or  late  in  the  afternoon, 
the  visitor  to  the  shore  is  startled  by  a  trumpet-like  noise, 
immediately  followed  by  a  whirr  of  wings,  and  he  sees  a 
flock  of  large  scarlet  birds  rising  in  the  air  and  sailing 
away  in  the  shape  of  a  triangle,  after  the  fashion  of  wild 
geese.     These  are  the  flamingoes,  and  the  noise  was  the 
warning  note  of  the  sentinel  which  is  always  on  the  look- 
out while  the  rest  of  the  flock  are  feeding. 

2.  They  are  shy  birds,  and  to  obtain  a  near  view  they 
must  be  approached  with  great  caution.     Snugly  ensconced 
in  some  protecting  bush  or  tree,  the  observer  will  see  scar- 
let flashes  high  in  air  as  the  birds  steer  toward  their  accus- 
tomed resort.    When  they  alight,  the  triangle  is  straight- 
ened out  into  a  line,  the  sentinel  takes  his  place  in  some 
commanding  position,  and  the  remainder  of  the  flock  set 
about  their  search  for  food.     At  a  little  distance  they  ap- 
pear like  scarlet  boats,  with  enormously  long  bows,  floating 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS. 


245 


in  the  air.  A  closer  inspection,  however,  reveals  two  long, 
slim  legs,  so  entirely  disproportionate  to  the  size  of  the 
body  as  to  give  to  the  birds  the  very  ludicrous  appearance 
of  walking  on  stilts. 

3.  The  observer  will  see  also  that  the  flamingo  has  a 
small  but  graceful  body,  a  finely  curved  and  swan-like 
neck,  and,  when  flying,  or  wading  in  the  water,  it  is  one  of 


Flamingo  and  Nest. 

the  most  beautiful  of  all  aquatic  birds.  It  is  adapted  to 
wading,  swimming,  flying,  and  walking,  and  it  is  only  on 
land  that  it  appears  awkward  and  uncomfortable.  It  helps 
itself  over  the  ground  with  its  long  neck  and  bill,  and  its 
pace  while  running  is  very  rapid. 

4.   They  are   web-footed,  like   the   swimmers ;   not  so 
much,  however,  to  enable  them  to  swim,  as  to  walk  over  the 


246  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

soft  mud  at  the  bottom  of  the  water.  They  eat  after  the 
manner  of  a  duck,  their  food  consisting  of  such  small  fish  as 
they  may  catch,  and  the  mollusks,  crustaceans,  and  marine 
insects  which  they  may  turn  up  in  the  mud  at  the  bottom. 
Their  bill  is  so  constructed  as  to  sort  the  material,  and  to 
collect  the  edible  portion  in  the  under  mandible  as  in  a 
spoon.  Their  tongue  is  thick,  of  a  soft,  oily  consistence, 
and  is  covered  with  curved  spines  pointing  backward  ;  it  is 
considered  a  very  delicate  morsel  for  the  table. 

5.  Flamingoes  are  not  entirely  nocturnal  birds,  but  they 
avoid  the  glare  of  the  day.     They  fly  low  over  the  water, 
but  high  over  the  land.     Their  mode  of  flight  is  by  alter- 
nately flapping  their  wings  and  sailing  ;  and,  in  alighting, 
they  generally  sail  round  the  place  and  come  down  in  shal- 
low water  and  wade  to  the  shore.     The  neck  of  the  bird  is 
very  flexible,  and  it  presents  an  exceedingly  beautiful  ap- 
pearance as  it  is  bent  in  graceful  curves  to  preen  every 
part  of  its  plumage.     Its  clumsy  legs,  which  in  flying  are 
drawn  to  the  breast  so  as  to  be  nearly  invisible,  are  well 
under  control,  for  it  can  scratch  its  head  with  its  toes  as 
well  as  a  canary. 

6.  George  W.  Curtis,  in  his  "Nile  Notes  of  Howadji," 
gives  the  following  description  of  a  flight  of  flamingoes 
which  hfc  witnessed  in  Egypt :    "  As  we  sat  upon  a  green 
clump  on  the  high  bank  of  the  river,  we  saw  a  dark  undu- 
lating mass  upon  the  edge  of  the  fog-bank  that  was  slowly 
moving  northward  away.    The  mass,  now  evidently  a  flight 
of  birds,  came  sweeping  southward  toward  us,  high  in  the 
blue  air,  and  veering  from  side  to  side  like  a  ship  in  tack- 
ing.    With  every  sunward  sweep  their  snow-white  bodies 
shone  like  a  shower  of  most  brilliant  silver  stars. 

7.  "  There  was  a  graceful,  careless  order  in  their  flying, 
and  as  they  turned  from  side  to  side  the  long  lines  undu- 
lated in  musical  motion.     I  have  never  seen  movements  so 
delicious  to  the  eye  as  their  turning  sweep.     The  long  line 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.          247 

throbbed  and  palpitated  as  if  an  electric  sympathy  were 
emitted  from  the  fine  points  of  their  wings.  There  was 
nothing  tumbling  or  gay  in  their  impression,  but  an  intense 
feeling  of  languid  life.  Their  curves  and  movements  were 
voluptuous.  The  southern  sun  flashed  not  in  vain  along 
their  snowiness,  nor  were  they  without  meaning  flying  to 
the  south.  There  was  no  sound  but  the  whirring  of  innu- 
merable wings,  as  they  passed  high  over  our  heads,  a  living 
cloud  between  us  and  the  sun.  Now  it  was  a  streaming 
whiteness  in  the  blue,  now  it  was  as  mellowly  dark,  as  they 
turned  to  or  from  the  sun,  and  so  advanced,  the  long  lines 
giving  and  trembling  sometimes,  like  a  flapping  sail  in  a 
falling  breeze,  then  bellying  roundly  out  again  as  if  the 
wind  had  risen. 

8.  "  When  they  were  directly  above  us,  one  only  note 
was  dropped  from  some  thoughtful  flamingo,  to  call  atten- 
tion to  the  presence  of  strangers  below.  But  beyond  mus- 
ket-shot, even  if  not  beyond  fear,  as  they  undoubtedly 
were,  the  fair  company  swept  on  unheeding,  a  beautiful 
boon  for  the  south,  and  laden  with  what  strange  tidings 
from  northern  woods  !  The  bodies  were  rosy  white  and 
the  wings  black,  and  the  character  of  the  flight  imparted  an 
air  of  delicacy  and  grace  to  all  their  movements  and  associ- 
ation ;  but  the  pageant  soon  passed,  and  the  whirr  of  beau- 
tiful wings,  and  the  rose-cloud  of  flamingoes  died  away 
deep  in  the  south." 


BIRDS-OF-PARADISE. 

1.  THE  birds-of -paradise  are  a  small  but  renowned  fam- 
ily. They  received  their  name  from  the  idea,  entertained 
at  one  time,  that  they  inhabited  the  region  of  the  Mosaic 
paradise.  They  live  in  a  small  locality  in  Australasia,  in- 
cluding Papua  or  New  Guinea,  and  a  few  adjacent  islands. 


248  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

2.  In  form  and  size  they  somewhat  resemble  our  crow, 
or  blue-jay  ;  but  some  are  smaller.     They  are  usually  in- 
cluded  in  the  tribe  of  conebills,  though  their  bills  are 
quite  slender  for  that  group,  and  a  little  compressed.     The 
bills  are  covered  at  the  base  with  downy  or  velvety  feathers, 
which  extend  over  the  nostrils ;  their  wings  are  long  and 
round  ;  the  tail  consists  of  ten  feathers,  two  of  them,  in 
some  species,  very  long ;  legs  and  feet  very  long,  large, 
and  strong  ;  outer  toe  longer  than  inner,  and  joined  to  the 
middle  one  toward  the  base ;   hind-toe  very  long  ;   claws 
long  and  curved. 

3.  But  they  are  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  wonderful 
development  of  various  parts  of  their  plumage,  and  for  the 
metallic  splendor  of  its  rich  hues.     The  sides  of  the  body, 
and  sometimes  of  the  head,  neck,  breast,  or  tail,  are  orna- 
mented with  lengthened,  peculiarly  developed,  and  showy 
feathers.     Says  Wood  :  "  In  all  the  species,  the  feathers 
glow  with  resplendent  radiance  ;  in  nearly  all  there  is  some 
strange  and  altogether  unique  arrangement  of  the  plum- 
age ;  and,  in  many,  the  feathers  are  modified  into  plumes, 
ribbons,  and  streamers,  that  produce  the  most  surprising 
and  lovely  effects. "    The  plumage  of  the  face,  breast,  and 
throat  is  usually  the  richest  in  metallic  tints,  while  other 
parts  frequently  have  very  beautiful  and  brilliant  colors. 

4.  Their    food  consists   of    grasshoppers,    butterflies, 
moths,  and  other  insects ;  figs,  the  berries  of  various  trees 
and  shrubs  ;  seeds,  rice,  and  other  kinds  of  grain.     During 
the  heat  of  the  day  they  remain  concealed  in  the  woods, 
but  in  the  morning  and  evening  come  forth  to  seek  their 
food.    Furious  storms  frequently  bring  them  to  the  ground, 
when  they  are  easily  taken  by  the  natives,  who  also  shoot 
them  with  blunt  arrows,  or  take  them  with  a  noose,  like- 
wise with  bird-lime  or  other  glutinous  substance,  placed 
on  the  branches  which  they  frequent. 

5.  The  greater  paradise-bird  (Paradisea  apoda),  fre- 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS. 


249 


queiitly  called  the 
Emerald  Bird-of- 
Paradise,  is  small- 
er than  the  crow. 
Linnaeus  gave  the 
specific  name  apo- 
da  to  this  bird, 
which  was  gener- 
ally and  errone- 
ously called  foot- 
less, to  designate 
the  species,  not 
to  perpetuate  the 
error.  This  bird 
seeks  the  thick- 
est foliage  of  the 
loftiest  trees,  in 
which  to  remain 
concealed  during 
the  day.  The 
feathers  on  the 
head,  throat,  and 
neck  are  very 
short  and  dense. 
Those  round  the 
base  of  the  bill, 
and  on  the  face, 
are  velvety  and 
black,  changing 
their  color  to 
green,  as  the  di- 


Mrd  of  Paradise. 


rection  of  the  light 

changes ;  those  on  the  throat,  the  front  half  of  the  neck, 
and  the  upper  part  of  the  breast,  are  of  a  bright,  deep, 
emerald  green ;  those  on  the  head,  back  of  the  neck,  and 


250  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  shoulders,  are  of  a  light,  golden  yellow.     The  eye  is  at 
the  common  point  between  these  colors. 

6.  If  lines  were  drawn  from  it  to  the  throat,  to  the 
forehead,  and  down  the  sides  of  the  neck,  and  curved  to  a 
point  on  the  breast,  they  would  indicate  very  well  the  lim- 
its of  the  colors.     The  back,  wings,  tail,  and  belly  are  of  a 
bright,  reddish  chestnut,  the  breast  being  a  little  darker, 
and   inclining  to  purple.      From  each  side  beneath  the 
wings  proceed  a  large  number  of  long,  floating,  graceful 
plumes,  some  eighteen  inches  in  length,  of  exceeding  deli- 
cacy of  texture  and  appearance.     These  extend  far  beyond 
the  tail-feathers,  which   are  about  six  inches  long,  and 
their  translucent  golden-white  vanelets  produce  a  most  su- 
perb effect,  as  they  cross  and  recross  each  other,  forming 
every  imaginable  shade  of  white,  gold,  and  orange,  and 
then  deepening  toward  their  extremities  into  a  soft,  pur- 
plish red.     From  the  upper  part  of  the  tail  proceed  two 
black  shafts  or  filaments,  some  eighteen  inches  long,  ap- 
pearing like  small  wires,  about  one  sixteenth  of  an  inch  in 
diameter. 

7.  They  are  not  easily  tamed  and  kept  confined,  and 
few  have  been  brought  alive  from  their  native  locality. 
Mr.  Beale  had  one  at  Macao,  China,  which  had  been  in 
captivity  nine  years.     In  a  description  of  this  bird  the 
writer  says:  "This  elegant  creature  has  a  light,  playful, 
and  graceful  manner,  with  an  arch  and  impudent  look ; 
dances  about  when  a  visitor  approaches  the  cage,  and  seems 
delighted  at  being  made  an  object  of  admiration.    Its  notes 
are  very  peculiar,  resembling  the  cawing  of  a  raven,  but 
its  tones  are  far  more  varied.     It  washes  itself  regularly 
twice   daily,   and,  after  having  performed  its  ablutions, 
throws  its  delicate  feathers  up  nearly  over  its  head,  the 
quills  of  which  feathers  have  a  peculiar  structure  so  as  to 
enable  the  bird  to  effect  this  object. 

8.  "Its  food,  during  confinement,  is  boiled  rice,  mixed 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.          251 

up  with  soft  eggs,  together  with  plantains,  and  living  in- 
sects of  the  grasshopper  tribe  ;  these  insects,  when  thrown 
to  him,  the  bird  contrives  to  catch  in  his  beak  with  great 
celerity  ;  but  if,  through  failure  to  catch  them,  they  should 
fall  to  the  floor,  he  will  not  descend  to  them,  appearing  to 
be  fearful  that,  in  so  doing,  he  would  soil  his  delicate 
plumage.  He  will  eat  insects  in  a  living  state,  but  will  not 
touch  them  when  dead. 

9.  "  One  of  the  best  opportunities  of  seeing  this  splen- 
did bird,  in  all  its  beauty  of  actions  as  well  as  display  of 
plumage,  is  early  in  the  morning,  when  he  makes  his  toi- 
let ;  the  beautiful  sub-alar  plumage  is  then  thrown  out  and 
cleaned  from  any  spot  that  may  sully  its  purity,  by  being 
passed  gently  through  the  bill ;  the  short,  chocolate-col- 
ored wings  are  extended  to  the  utmost,  and  he  keeps  them 
in  a  steady,  flapping  motion,  as  if  in  imitation  of  their  use 
in  flight,  at  the  same  time  raising  up  the  delicate,  long 
feathers  over  the  back,  which  are  spread  in  a  chaste  and 
elegant  manner,  floating  like  films  in  the  ambient  air. 

10.  "  In  this  position  the  bird  would  remain  for  a  short 
time,  seemingly  proud  of  its  heavenly  beauty,  and  in  rap- 
tures of  delight  with  its  most  enchanting  self  ;  it  will  then 
assume  various  attitudes,  so  as  to  regard  its  plumage  in 
every  direction. 

11.  "  Having  completed  his  toilet,  he  utters  the  usual 
cawing  notes,  at  the  same  time  looking  archly  at  the  spec- 
tators, as  if  ready  to  receive  all  the  admiration  that  it  con- 
siders its  elegant   form  and  plumage  demand.     It  then 
takes  exercise  by  hopping  in  a  rapid  but  graceful  manner 
from  one  of  the  upper  perches  to  the  other,  and  descends 
suddenly  upon  the  second  perch,  close  to  the  bars  of  the 
cage,  looking  out  for  the  grasshoppers  which  it  is  accus- 
tomed to  receive  about  this  time." 

James  H.  Partridge. 


252  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


TALKING    BIRDS  AND   THEIR   WAYS. 

1.  NEARLY  all  the  birds  that  are  capable  of  articulating 
words  belong  to  the  parrot  family,  which  numbers  more 
ttian  three  hundred  species.     The  common  gray  and  green 
parrots  are  too  well  known  to  need  description.     The  fam- 
ily belong  to  the  climbers,  but  are  slow  and  awkward  upon 
the  ground.     In  climbing  they  use  both  beak  and  claws, 
and  in  eating  they  use  one  claw  to  hold  the  food.     The 
beak  is  very  strong,  and  capable  of  great  destruction  in 
either  offensive  or  defensive  warfare.     They  are  natives  of 
tropical  climes,  live  in  pairs,  and  feed  upon  soft,  pulpy 
fruits,  especially  such  as  have  hard  kernels  or  seeds.    When 
wild  they  are  usually  seen  in  large  flocks  morning  and 
evening,  active  in  procuring  food,  and  exceedingly  noisy 
and  quarrelsome.     In  captivity  they  are  generally  capri- 
cious in  temper  and  mischievous. 

2.  Innumerable  anecdotes  are  told  of  them  which  go  to 
show  that  they  have  not  only  the  ability  to  speak,  but  also 
to  attach  a  definite  meaning  to  the  words  they  utter.     A 
few  years  since,  I  was  the  owner  of  one  which  we  named 
"Poll,  "to  distinguish  her   from  "  Polly,"  our  other  pet. 
She  had  lost  her  beauty  by  a  scald  on  the  head,  and  never 
possessed  the  winning  ways  of  her  companion.    She  would, 
indeed,  say,  when  the  reason  of  her  bald  pate  was  asked, 
"  I've  been  scalded " ;  and  whenever  a  bald-headed  gen- 
tleman entered  the  room,  she  shouted  to  him,   "You've 
been  scalded  ! "   and   then,   turning  to  her  friends,   and 
changing  her  grammar  correctly,  would  cry  out,  to  our 
infinite    annoyance,    "He's   been    scalded!"      She   could 
cry,  "Hip,  hip,  hurrah!   three   cheers  for  the  queen!" 
could  sing  and  dance  to  the  tune  of  "Polly,  put  the  ket- 
tle on,  we'll  all  have  tea"  ;  and  would  ask  very  peremp- 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.          253 

torily  for  her  meals,  "Thomas,   fetch  my  dinner — Poll's 
hungry  ! " 

3.  She  had  one  singular  trait :  she  caught  everybody's 
laugh.     I  never  noticed  the  peculiarity  of  laughs  in  my 
family  till  "  Poll "  began  to  simulate  them.     From  the 
feminine  giggle  to  the  masculine  guffaw— from  the  boister- 
ous laugh  of  the  children  to  the  titter  of  the  house-maid, 
catching  the  gamut  of  every  member  of  our  household, 
even  to  the  suppressed  hiccough  of  James  the  footman, 
whose  good  English  breeding  allowed  only  the  slightest 
demonstration  of  any  sentiment  whatever — -"  Poll  "  would 
deliver  by  the  hour  a  series  of  idiosyncratic  laughs,  which, 
amusing  enough  at  first,  made  her  imitations  at  last  an  in- 
tolerable nuisance.     When  she  once  began  her  cachinna- 
tions,  nothing  would  stop  her.     Indeed,  when  attacked  by 
a  gout  that  ended  her  life,  her  very  last  breath  shaped  itself 
into  a  giggle,  so  true  to  its  original  that  to  those  who  stood 
around  her  cage,  mourning  over  her  death-agonies,  it  was 
irresistibly  ludicrous.     Laughing  herself,  she  died  in  the 
very  odor  of  laughter. 

4.  They  tell  a  good  story  in  Newgate  Street,  London, 
of  a  parrot — or  of  two  parrots  rather,  a  gray  and  a  green 
one — belonging  to  Morley,  a  tradesman  in  the  Old  Bailey, 
just  opposite  the  prison,  which  is  vouched  for  as  true  in 
the  strictest   sense.     The  man  had  a  wonderful  "bird- 
sense,"  and  his  power  of  training  birds  became  famous 
throughout  the  metropolis.     He  had  taught  his  green  par- 
rot to  speak  whenever  a  knock  was  heard  at  his  street- 
door  ;  but  when  the  bell  of  the  same  door  was  rung,  he 
had  taught  the  gray  parrot  to  answer.     The  house,  still 
standing,  has  one  of  those  projecting  porches  that  prevent 
the  second  story  from  being  seen  from  the  pavement;    One 
day  a  person  knocked.     "  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  the  green 
parrot.     "  The  man  with  the  leather,"  was  the  reply.    The 
bird  answered,  "All  right ! "  and  then  became  silent.    After 


254  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

waiting  some  time,  and  not  finding  the  door  opened,  the 
man  knocked  again.  "Who  is  there?"  again  asked  the 
green  parrot.  "  Who's  there?"  cried  the  porter  outside. 
"  It's  I,  the  man  with  the  leather  ;  why  don't  you  open  the 
door  ?"  "All  right !  "  repeated  the  parrot,  which  so  en- 
raged the  man  that  he  furiously  rang  the  bell.  "Go  to 
the  gate  ! "  shouted  a  new  voice,  which  proceeded  from  the 
gray  parrot.  "  To  the  gate  ! "  repeated  the  man,  seeing  no 
gate  ;  "  what  gate  ?"  "Newgate  !  Newgate  ! "  responded 
the  gray  parrot.  The  porter  was  enraged ;  but,  stepping 
across  the  street,  the  better  to  answer  what  he  supposed  to 
be  the  insolence  of  the  house-maids,  he  saw  that  he  had 
been  outwitted  and  teased  by  a  couple  of  parrots. 

5.  This  same  Morley  had  been  employed  by  a  gentle- 
man, who  had  heard  of  his  knowledge  of  birds,  to  purchase 
for  him  a  white  cockatoo.     The  price  was  of  less  impor- 
tance than  the  health,  disposition,  and  breeding  of  the  bird. 
She  was  to  use  no  bad  language,  be  subject  to  no  fits  of 
passion,  have  been  trained  to  be  handled  by  women  and 
children,  and  be  cleanly  in  her  habits.     Morley  took  great 
pains  to  please  his  employer,  and  at  last  sent  him  home 
perhaps  the  most  perfect  specimen  of  the  breed  ever  seen 
in  London.     As  I  saw  the  bird  ten  years  ago,  nothing  in 
the  way  of  ornithological  beauty  could  surpass  it.    Of  pure, 
snowy  white  from  top  of  crown  to  tip  of  tail ;  without  a 
speck  of  lead,  gray,  or  crimson  on  a  single  feather ;  free 
from  all  sign  of  cross  with  paroquet  or  macaw ;  and  in 
shape,  attitude,  bearing,  and  action,  as  distinguishable  as  a 
blooded  horse — "  Beauty,"  as  she  was  called,  stood  unri- 
valed. 

6.  When  she  was  sent  home,  there  was  perfect  satisfac- 
tion ;  the  employer  was  pleased,  as  he  well  might  be  ;  the 
family  of  daughters  in  ecstasies  of  admiration  ;  and  Morley 
richly  remunerated  for  his  trouble.     But  the  bird  would 
not  talk.      This  was  attributed  at  first  to  fear,  then  to 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.          255 

change  of  diet,  and  at  last  to  absolute  inability.  Of 
course,  there  was  great  disappointment.  "Beauty's"  cage 
hung  at  the  dining-room  window  ;  every  visitor  was  in  ad- 
miration of  her  spotless  plumage  and  faultless  shape  ;  and, 
of  course,  everybody  sympathized  in  the  disappointment  at 
her  irremediable  defect. 

7.  "  What  a  pity  it  is  she  does  not  talk  !  "  remarked  a 
person  one  day  at  dinner  ;    "  she  would   be   worth   her 
weight  in  gold."     "She  almost  cost  it  as  it  is,"  said  pater- 
familias.    "  The  creature  is  a  cheat.     Fine  feathers  don't 
make  fine  birds,   certainly  not  fine  parrots.     I  paid  ten 
guineas  for  her,  and  she  can  not  say  one  word."    "A h,  but 
I  think  the  more  !     What's  the  use  of  talking,  if  you  have 
nothing  to  say  ?  "  came  in  clear  articulate  sounds  from  the 
cage,  to  the  amazement  of  family  and  guests.    That  settled 
forever  "Beauty's"  supremacy. 

8.  Whether  it  is  possible  to  entirely  eradicate  bad  habits 
in  parrots  is  doubtful.     Captain  Simpson,  well  known  by 
transatlantic  passengers,  used  to  duck  his  paroquet  in  the 
sea  every  time  it  swore  an  oath.     This  seemed  to  cure  him 
of  using  profane  language.     The  creature  really  connected 
an  oath  with  a  dowse  in  the  water,  and  gave  up  swearing. 
One  day,  in  a  furious  storm,  a  man  was  washed  overboard, 
and  with  great  difficulty  was  recovered.    As  soon  as  he  was 
drawn  on  deck,  and  efforts  were  being  made  to  resuscitate 
him,  "  Polly  "  kept  hopping  around  the  circle,  shaking  her 
head  from  side  to  side,  and  saying,  gravely,  "You've  been 
swearing  !  you've  been  swearing  !  " 

9.  It  is  said  that  macaws  are  the  best  talkers  of  the 
whole  species,  providing  they  are  reared  from  the  nest. 
And  not  only  are  they  able  to  talk,  but  they  also  sing  in  a 
peculiar,  soft  voice.     In  sweetness,  though  not  in  compass, 
of  musical  notes,  they  are,  however,  excelled  by  the  grass 
or  green  paroquet.     While  the  cockatoo  is  the  hardiest  of 
the  parrot  tribe,  and  the  most  easily  tamed,  it  is,  at  the 


256  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

same  time,  the  most  difficult  to  teach  to  talk  at  all  well. 
Its  disposition  is  more  gentle,  however,  and  its  obedience 
more  implicit,  than  any  of  the  other  species.  The  gray 
African  parrot,  from  its  docility  and  aptitude,  ranks  every- 
where first  as  a  favorite,  though  of  late  years  the  common 
green  Amazon,  from  the  little  attention  it  requires,  and  its 
quick  sagacity,  is  sharing  the  general  favor. 

10.  A  gentleman  residing  in  Wilmington,   Delaware, 
owns  one  of  these  Amazon  parrots.     It  possesses  a  fluency 
and  variety  of  language  rarely  ever  equaled  by  the  African 
gray.     As  soon  as  her  master  returns  from  the  office  for 
dinner,  Polly  begins  to  salute  him  in  fondest  expressions  : 
"  Papa,  dear,   come  and  kiss  your  pretty  green  beauty  ! 
Come  in,  come  in,  papa,  and  give  us  a  kiss,  and  a  thousand 
more  ! "     When  the  footman  enters  the  room,  she  says  to 
him,  but  never  to  any  one  else,  "  Fetch  my  dinner,  James 
—I'm  hungry.     Stupid  fellow  !  I  can't  eat  my  head  off  ! " 
To  a  bachelor  friend,  who  frequently  spends  several  weeks 
at  the  house,  Polly  has  but  one  question,  never  put  to  any 
one  else,  "  Oh,  you  gay  deceiver,  why  did  you  promise  to 
marry  me,  and  didn't  ? "     To  a  gentleman,  a  near  neigh- 
bor, whom  she  had  once  overheard  saying,  at  the  after- 
dinner  table,  "  The  bird's  invaluable  ;  five  hundred  dollars 
would  not  buy  her,  if  I  owned  her — would  it,  Polly  ?  "  she 
always  addresses  the  salute  the  moment  he  appears,  "  Five 
hundred  dollars  would  not  buy  Polly,  if  you  owned  her ! 
Five  hundred  dollars  !    Five  hundred  dollars  !    Why,  the 
bird's  invaluable  ! " 

11.  This  Wilmington  parrot  certainly  discriminates  be- 
tween the  sexes  and  between  conditions  in  life.      To  a 
well-dressed  young  gentleman  the  remark  is,  "  What  a  get- 
up  !     What  a  swell  you  are  ! "     To  a  young  lady,  on  the 
contrary,  fondling  and  kissing,  she  says,  with  great  defer- 
ence, "  Is  she  not  nice  ? — so  nice  ! "     Whereas  to  a  clergy- 
man, who   is  detected  by  his  dress,   she  is  exceedingly 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WATS. 

offensive,  perpetually  calling  out,  "  Let  us  pray  !  "  "  Glory 
be  to  God  !  "  "  Amen  !  "  She  was  once  lost,  stayed  out 
over  night,  and  grief  and  searches  ruled  the  disconsolate 
household.  At  daybreak,  however,  a  workman,  going  to 
his  job,  was  hailed  by  Polly,  from  a  pile  of  bricks,  with 
the  call,  "  Take  me  home  !  Take  me  home  !  "  Whether 
the  night-chilled  bird  did  or  did  not  attach  meaning  to  the 
words,  it  is  certain  that  the  workman  did,  and  that  he 
made  a  good  thing  of  bringing  her  home.  I  know  of  no 

gray  parrot  that  has  excelled  this. 

N.  S.  Dodge. 


THE    APTERYX. 

1.  ONE  of  the  contributions  which  New  Zealand  has 
made  to  the  list  of  queer  animal  forms  is  that  of  the  ap- 
teryx.    The  name  implies  that  it  is  a  wingless  bird,  though 
when  stripped  of  its  covering  minute  rudimentary  wings 
are  discovered.     This  bird  is  another  survival  of  the  old 
geologic  forms,  of  which  the  southern  hemisphere  has  fur- 
nished so  many  specimens.      In  size  the  different  species 
vary  from  that  of  a  moderately-sized  hen  to  that  of  a  large 
turkey.    It  is  covered  with  curious  feathers,  which  are  very 
narrow,  and  taper  to  a  point  at  their  upper  extremity,  giving 
to  the  bird  the  general  appearance  of  a  hedgehog.     The 
covering  seems  to  be  a  •  cross  between  feathers,  hair,  and 
hedgehog  quills. 

2.  The  bill  of  the  apteryx  is  long  and  slender,  and  the 
legs  are  large  and  strong,  each  terminating  in  sharp  and 
formidable  claws.     It  thus  possesses  the  characteristic  or- 
gans of  both  scratching  and  wading  birds,  but  it  is  exclu- 
sively a  land  bird,  and  uses  its  long  beak  to  extract  insects 
and  worms  from  the  fallen  leaves  and  decayed  wood  in  the 
forests.     As  it  has  no  occasion  to  fly  or  to  swim,  its  tail  is 


258 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


in  the  same  rudimentary  condition  as  its  wings.  It  is 
called  by  the  natives  kiwi-kiwi,  from  its  peculiar  cry.  Its 
nests  are  made  either  at  the  base  of  a  hollow  tree  or  in 
deep  holes  which  it  excavates  in  the  ground.  When  at- 
tacked, it  defends  itself  vigorously  with  its  strong  feet. 


The  Apteryx. 

3.  Mr.  Wood,  the  naturalist,  thus  describes  this  bird  : 
"  The  skin  is  tough  and  flexible,  and  the  chiefs  set  great 
value  upon  it  for  the  manufacture  of  their  state  mantles, 
permitting  no  inferior  person  to  wear  them,  and  being  ex- 
tremely unwilling  to  part  with  them  even  for  a  valuable 
consideration.  The  bird  lives  mostly  among  the  fern  ;  and, 
as  it  always  remains  concealed  during  the  day  in  deep  re- 
cesses of  rocks,  ground,  or  tree-roots,  and  is  remarkably 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR   WATS.          259 

fleet  of  foot,  diving  among  the  heavy  fern-leaves  with  sin- 
gular adroitness,  it  is  not  very  easy  of  capture.  It  feeds 
upon  insects  of  various  kinds,  more  especially  on  worms, 
which  it  is  said  to  attract  to  the  surface  by  jumping  and 
striking  on  the  ground  with  its  powerful  feet.  The  natives 
always  hunt  the  kiwi-kiwi  at  night,  taking  with  them 
torches  and  spears.  The  speed  of  this  bird  is  very  consid- 
erable, and  when  running  it  sets  its  head  rather  back,  raises 
its  neck,  and  plies  its  legs  with  a  vigor  little  inferior  to 
that  of  the  ostrich. 

4.  "  The  fine   specimen  in  the  Zoological  Gardens  of 
London  has  already  proved  a  very  valuable  bird,  as  she  has 
laid  several  eggs,   thereby  setting  at  rest  some  disputed 
questions  on  the  subject,  and  well  illustrates  the  natural 
habits  of  the  species. 

5.  "  Upon  her  box  is  placed,  under  a  glass  shade,  the 
shell  of  one  of  her  eggs.     These  eggs  are  indeed  wonderful, 
for  the  bird  weighs  a  little  more  than  four  pounds,  and 
each  egg  weighs  between  fourteen  and  fifteen  ounces,  its 
length  being  four  and  three  quarter  inches  and  its  width 
rather  more  than   two  inches,  thus  being  very  nearly  one 
fourth  of  the  weight  of  the  parent-bird.    This,  next  to  that 
of  the  ostrich,  is  the  largest  egg  known. 

6.  "  The  long,  curved  beak  of  the  apteryx  has  the  nos- 
trils very  narrow,  very  small,  and  set  on  at  each  side  of  the 
tip,  so  that  the  bird  is  enabled  to  pry  out  the  worms  and 
other  nocturnal  creatures  on  which  it  feeds,  not  trusting 
merely  to  the  eyes.     The  general  color  of  the  apteryx  is 
chestnut-brown,  each  feather  being  tipped  with  a  darker 
hue,  and  the  under  parts  are  lighter  than  the  upper." 


260  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


THE  STORK. 

1.  THE  stork  appears  most  at  home  in  the  low  lands  of 
Holland,  and  by  the  people  of  that  country  he  is  held  more 
sacred  than  anywhere  else.     In  the  landscapes  of  the  old 
Dutch  painters  he  forms  an  almost  typical  accessory ;  in 
every  village,  and  in  most  towns  even,  he  is  at  home  ;  and 
in  the  Hague  a  house  has  been  built  in  the  middle  of  the 
market-place  on  purpose  for  him.     He  is  of  noble  extrac- 
tion, of  high  birth,  as  the  nursery  rhyme  says,  for  his  im- 
posing nest  is  reared  on  roofs  and  gables.     A  pollard  tree 
in  the  neighborhood  of  a  house  or  village  serves  him  often 
for  a  domicile  ;  an  ash,  a  maple,  or  an  oak,  for  an  elevated 
throne,  is  absolutely  necessary  for  him,  in  order  that  he 
may  have  an  extended  view  over  his  territory  of  meadows, 
fields,  and  morass. 

2.  When  with  the  first  warm  March  breeze  the  stork 
returns  to   his  village,    there  is  great  rejoicing.     He  is 
greeted  with  song  and  exclamation,  as  one  welcome  back, 
as  a  faithful,  long-missed  friend.     The  old  people  in  the 
village  know  him  as  the  contemporary  of  their  youth ; 
and  to  the  children,  whose  friend  pre-eminently  he  is,  he 
brings  the  assurance  and  the  pledge  that  spring,  for  which 
they  have  so  impatiently  longed,  is  come.     He  has,  so  to 
say,  signed  Spring's  passport  with  his  visb;  there  is  no 
longer  any  doubt  of  his  arrival. 

3.  His  very  figure,  how  characteristic  and  significant ! 
On  a  high  wooden  leg,  which  seems  stuck  into  a  red  Kus- 
sia-leather  boot,  is  balanced  his  stately  body,  over  which 
he  has  thrown  his  white  traveling  cloak,  turned  up  with 
black.     His  tail  is  short  and  obtuse  ;  all  the  more  slender 
and  elongated  is  his  neck,  which  carries  the  peculiarly  ex- 
pressive head  with  a  tranquil  dignity.     The  plumage  lies 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WATS. 


261 


close  on  the  smooth  forehead,  like  hair  neatly  combed 
back  ;  the  brown  eye  twinkles  with  clear,  honest  expression, 
in  which,  however,  there  is  a  touch  of  roguery,  from  out  the 
black  rings  of  the  mark  not  unlike  spectacles.  The  visor 
terminates  very  comically  in  a  long,  grotesque  beak-nose, 


The  Stork, 

which,  be  it  observed,  is  a  weapon  also  to  insure  respect. 
In  gait,  demeanor,  manner,  a  pedantic  pathos  is  expressed, 
reminding  us  of  hoops  and  hair-powder,  rapiers,  high- 
heeled  shoes,  and  minuets.  The  stork  is  indeed  an  old- 
fashioned  figure,  seemingly  most  in  keeping  with  the  slow 
paced  burghers  of  his  beloved  Holland. 


262  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

4.  Wrapped  in  thoughtful  silence,  he  stalks,  like  Myn- 
heer, stiff  and  full  of  gravity,  through  his  drains  and  mea- 
dows.    At  every  step,  he  lifts  with  measured  cadence  the 
long,  stocking-covered  leg,  as  if  to  guard  it  from  possible 
contamination  ;  while  head  and  neck,  in  a  continual  tick- 
tack,  nod  backward  and   forward  in  comical  solemnity. 
Thus,  with  ceremonious  carriage,  consort  and  spouse  move 
along,  like  peripatetic  philosophers,  until  one  or  the  other 
perceives  the  fat,  sprawling  croaker  in  the  thick  sedge,  and 
suddenly  darts  forward  the  sharp  bill,  like  a  harpoon,  to 
impale  the  unhappy  wretch,  and  bury  him  in  the  depths  of 
the  gullet.     The  other  stork  raises  his  head  and  makes  a 
bow  and  a  nourish. 

5.  It  is  an  easy,  noiseless,  and  yet  assiduous  chase  ;  noth- 
ing interrupts  them,  unless  it  be  that  a  curious  observer 
comes  too  near  them,  or  something  unusual  happens.     Then 
they  stand  still ;  one  leg  is  drawn  up  close  to  the  body  and 
lays  hold  of  the  other,  thus  to  give  greater  firmness  to  the 
contemplative  position ;  the  neck  is  stretched  inquiringly 
upward,  and  the  eye  is  fixed  on  the  object  of  alarm.     In 
this  attitude,  which,  odd  as  it  is,  never  sacrifices  aught  of 
its  grandezza,  they  will  remain  some  minutes  immovable, 
and  with  all  the  gravity  of  an  automaton,  until  persuaded 
they  may  range  further  in  safety,  or  that  it  would  be  wiser 
to  take  flight. 

6.  The  large  body  rises  with  difficulty  ;  and  it  is  comic 
enough  to  see  the  worthy  master  of  ceremonies  brought  so 
completely  out  of  his  equilibrium.     He  makes  a  few  awk- 
ward jumps,  then  follow  some  heavy  flaps  of  the  wings,  and 
the  feet  are  stretched  out  like  oars  behind  ;   but  yet  the 
reeling  mass  rises  scarcely  above  the  ground.     Suddenly, 
with  a  jerk,  as  though  it  had  thrown   away  the  tardy 
crutch,    the   phlegmatic  walker  on  stilts  mounts  high  in 
the  ocean  of  air;  and  now,  in  grandest  rounds  and  soar- 
ings, he  displays  to  our  astonished  gaze  the  spectacle  of  his 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WATS.          263 

majestic  flight.  He  will  often  float  a  long  distance  with- 
out a  movement  of  the  wings,  as  though  supported  by  his 
own  weight,  gliding  downward  at  last  in  spiral  lines  to  the 
nest,  where  the  hungry  brood,  in  a  clappering  tongue,  give 
vent  to  their  joy. 

7.  As  among  the   wandering  shepherd  tribes  of  the 
Steppes  the  chief  precedes  his  family  to  look  for  new  pas- 
tures, then  returns  to  lead  them  thither,  so  does  the  male 
stork  appear  along  the  German  rivers  and  the  North  Sea, 
one  or  two  weeks  before  the  female,  in  order  to  reconnoiter ; 
and  when  he  has  again  found  the  old  moss-covered  house- 
ridge  with  the  empty  nest ;  when  he  sees  the  fountain  in 
the  court-yard,  with  the  wide-spreading  trees  beside  it,  and 
has  cast  a  look  over  the  country,  he  suddenly  disappears,  to 
return  soon  after  with  his  spouse  ;  and  then,  with  courtly 
obeisances  and  merry  clapperings,  introducing  her  as  mis- 
tress, sets  about  repairing  the  old  house  or  building  a  new 
one.     Possession  is  thus  taken ;    the   stork  arranges  his 
household,  and  paternal  cares  now  occupy  his  attention. 

8.  Except  some  quarrels  with  his  kind,  growing  out  of 
jealousy,  the  stork  is  a  most  peaceable  and  tolerant  charac- 
ter, and,  just  as  around  the  baronial  castle  swarms  of  poor 
retainers  settle  and  seek  protection,  so  does  he  allow  the 
sparrow  and  swallow  to  take  up  their  abode  beneath  the 
protecting,  spray-built  cupola  of  his  house.     He,  however, 
stands  like  an  emir,  in  grave  composure,  above  the  noisy 
rabble,  without  allowing  their  boldest  trieks  to  mislead  or 
anger  him.     Indeed,  the  stork,  above  all  other  birds,  has  a 
feeling  for  home  and  love  for  domestic  life.     He  is  a  watch- 
ful household  chief,  showing  as  much  tenderness  for  his 
progeny  as  filial  gratitude  to  parents  and  benefactors. 

9.  On  this  account  the  stork  has  at  all  times  been  re- 
garded as  "a  bird  of  piety,"  and  set  up  as  a  pattern  of  do- 
mestic virtue.     Thus,   it  is  said,  he  will  carry  his  young 
upon  his  back  when  teaching  them  to  fly,  or  to  save  them 


264:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

when  the  nest  is  threatened  with  fire  ;  whence,  as  some  sup- 
pose, he  acquired  the  old  German  name  of  Adeboar,  which 
literally  means  "  luck-bringer,"  he  being  good,  bringing 
good  with  him.  One  thing  must  not  be  forgotten,  that 
the  stork  extends  his  love  of  offspring  to  human  little  ones, 
and  that  these  reciprocate  his  love  with  kindness  and  atten- 
tion. 

10.  Cleanliness,  too,  is  a  fundamental  law  of  his  house- 
hold economy;   it  is  a  part,  so  to  speak,  of  the  natural 
character  of  the  stork,  and  is,  indeed,  the  more  necessary, 
as  on  his  white  dress  every  impurity  would  show  itself  most 
conspicuously.      The  bill  supplies  the  place  of  brush  and 
comb  ;  and  on  the  coat,  the  breast-facings,  and  stockings 
there  is  always  a  something  to  smooth  down  and  order. 
Nor  is  all  this  a  mere  show  of  cleanliness ;  he  would  not 
be  satisfied  with  having  a  clean  shirt-front  merely,  and  he 
bathes  frequently. 

11.  The  stork,  it  is  clear,  reveals  a  relationship  between 
his  mode  of  being  and  action  and  that  of  man ;  and  hence 
he  attaches  himself  to  man,  and  man  to  him.    Careless 
and  confiding  he  walks  about  the  court  and  garden  of  the 
farmer  ;  in  seaport  towns,  even,  he  stalks  on  amid  all  the 
bustle   of  the    streets,   and   expects  every   one   whom  he 
meets  to  make  way  for  him ;  he  wanders  from  market  to 
market,  from  fountain  to  fountain,  examines  boldly  here  a 
basket  and  there  a  dish ;  in  short,  he  feels  himself  at  home. 
Despite  all  familiarity,  he  knows  how  to  make  himself  re- 
spected ;  and  he  maintains  not  only  his  perfect  freedom, 
but  even  a  sort  of  superiority. 

12.  When,  in  the  height  of  summer,  the  meadows  are 
parched  and  ponds  and  morasses  are  dried  up,  the  stork  re- 
sorts to  the  interior  of  the  woods,  with  their  glades,  brooks, 
and  marshes  ;  and  when,  in  the  beginning  of  autumn,  the 
inferior  animals  retire  into  their  holes  and  winter  abodes, 
vast  numbers,   all  travel  -  equipped,  collect  together  and 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND    THEIR    WAYS.          265 

cruise  about  in  the  air,  preparing  for  emigration  to  the 
South.  When  all  is  ready,  they  depart  suddenly  in  well- 
ordered  ranks  ;  but  as  these  quickly  rise  to  the  highest  re- 
gions of  air,  they  are  soon  lost  to  sight. 

13.  In  uninterrupted  flight,  and  sometimes  in  flocks  of 
two  or  three  thousand,  these  Europe-sick  birds  direct  their 
course  to  the  Egyptian  coast.  Here  is  the  stork's  second 
home.  Here,  in  the  lowlands  of  the  Delta,  abounding  in 
frogs  and  snakes,  he  rules  as  a  sort  of  pacha,  as  familiar 
and  sacred  an  object  to  the  brown  child  of  the  fellah  as  to 
the  fair-haired  boy  of  the  dweller  among  the  dikes  ;  and 
verily  the  strange  bird,  with  his  gravity  and  seriousness, 
accords  well  with  that  land  of  singularity  and  gloom.  Yet 
even  beneath  the  palms  and  the  pyramids  he  does  not  for- 
get the  German  village  and  its  lime-trees  ;  and  when  the 
glowing  heat  of  advancing  summer  shines  down  from  the 
brazen  sky  of  Egypt,  he  returns  again  to  his  home  amid 
the  reviving  verdure  of  our  northern  climate. 

Hermann  Masius. 


THREE   VIEWS   OF  THE   EAGLE. 

1.  THE  eagle  is  a  well-known  bird  of  prey,  the  larg- 
est and  most  powerful  of  all  the  birds  that  fly  except  the 
condor  of  the  Andes.  Its  nests  are  usually  built  in  the 
top  of  a  lofty  tree,  in  the  midst  of  an  inaccessible  swamp 
or  on  the  summit  of  some  rocky  peak.  Its  favorite 
home  is  on  the  high  cliffs  which  border  the  ocean,  or  ex- 
tend along  the  rapids  of  a  river.  From  its  lofty  eyrie  it 
watches  life  below,  and  majestically  sails  out  into  the  upper 
air.  With  the  keenest  vision,  it  sees  the  small  birjjs  and 
animals  afar  off,  and,  pouncing  down  with  a  dread  swoop,  it 

seizes  them  in  its  terrible  taions  and  bears  them  away  to  its 
12 


266 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


nest.  Squirrels,  rabbits,  and  all  kinds  of  swimming  and 
wading  birds  fall  a  prey  to  its  voracity.  It  frequently  seizes 
young  lambs  from  the  flock,  and  several  instances  are  on 
record  where  it  has  snatched  a  baby  left  for  a  moment  by 
its  mother  and  carried  it  away  to  its  inaccessible  home. 


The  Eagle. 

2.  -When  live  food  can  not  be  obtained,  it  does  not  dis- 
dain to  feed  upon  dead  bodies.  It  will  attack  larger  ani- 
mals that  have  been  disabled,  aiming  furiously  at  their  eyes. 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.          267 

Withal  it  is  a  determined  freebooter,  robbing  other  birds  of 
their  prey.  The  character  ascribed  to  the  eagle  differs 
with  the  different  stand-points  of  its  observers.  It  has 
strength,  keenness  of  sight,  and  a  majestic  poise  while  on 
the  wing.  It  is  self-reliant,  and  shows  great  attachment 
for  its  young,  and  exhibits  great  courage  in  their  defense. 
All  these  qualities  and  characteristics  take  hold  of  the  im- 
agination, and  give  to  the  bird  its  ideal  character.  Viewed 
from  the  stand-point  of  fair  play  and  morality,  however, 
the  eagle  makes  about  as  poor  a  show  as  the  great  Napoleon 
when  judged  by  a  similar  standard. 

3.  We  will  hear  first  from  the  great  ornithologist,  Alex- 
ander Wilson,  whose  life  was  devoted  to  the  observation  of 
birds.     In  describing  the  eagle,  he  says  :  "Elevated  on  the 
high,  dead  limb  of  some  gigantic  tree,  that  commands  a 
wide  view  of  the  neighboring  shore  and  ocean,  he  seems 
calmly  to  contemplate  the  motions  of  the  various  feathered 
tribes  that  pursue  their  busy  vocations  below  ;  the  snow- 
white  gulls  slowly  winnowing  the  air  ;  the  busy  tringae  cours- 
ing along  the  sands ;  trains  of  ducks  streaming  over  the 
surface  ;  silent   and  watchful  cranes,  intent  and  wading ; 
clamorous  crows,  and  all  the  winged  multitudes  that  subsist 
by  the  bounty  of  this  vast  liquid  magazine  of  Nature.     High 
over  all  these  hovers  one  whose  action  instantly  arrests  all 
his  attention.     By  the  wide  curvature  of  wing,  and  sudden 
suspension  in  air,  he  knows  it  to  be  the  fish-hawk,  settling 
over  some  devoted  victim  of  the  deep.     His  eye  kindles  at 
the  sight,  and,  balancing  himself  with  half-opened  wings 
on  the  branch,  he  watches  the  result.     Down,  rapid  as  an 
arrow  from  heaven,  descends  the  distant  object  of  his  atten- 
tion ;  the  roar  of  its  wings  reaches  the  ear  as  it  disappears 
in  the  deep,  making  the  surges  foam  around. 

4.  "At  this  moment  the  eager  looks  of  the  eagle  are  all 
ardor,  and,  leveling  his  neck  for  flight,  he  sees  the  fish- 
hawk  once  more  emerge,  struggling  with   its   prey,  and 


268  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

mounting  in  the  air  with  screams  of  exultation.  These  are 
the  signal  for  the  eagle,  who,  launching  into  the  air,  in- 
stantly gives  chase  and  soon  gains  on  the  fish-hawk ;  each 
exerts  his  utmost  to  mount  above  the  other,  displaying  in 
these  rencontres  the  most  elegant  and  sublime  aerial  evolu- 
tions. The  unincumbered  eagle  rapidly  advances,  and  is 
just  on  the  point  of  reaching  his  opponent,  when,  with  a 
sudden  scream,  probably  of  despair  and  honest  execra- 
tion, the  latter  drops  his  fish.  The  eagle,  poising  himself 
for  a  moment,  as  if  to  take  a  more  certain  aim,  descends 
like  a  whirlwind,  snatches  it  in  his  grasp  ere  it  reaches  the 
water,  and  bears  his  ill-gotten  booty  silently  away  to  the 
woods." 

5.  We  will  next  hear  from  the  poet  Alfred  B.  Street. 
It  will  be  seen  that  here  the  hawk  is  represented  as  the 
robber,  while   the  eagle  redresses  the  wrong  and  avenges 
the  outrages  perpetrated  upon  the  poor  kingfisher.     To  be 
sure,  he  secures   the  prey  in  the  end,  but  we  must  not 
expect  from  a  poet  a  too  close  scrutiny  into  motives. 
6.   "With  storm-daring  pinion  and  sun-gazing  eye, 
The  gray  forest  eagle  is  king  of  the  sky  ! 
Oh,  little  he  loves  the  green  valley  of  flowers, 
Where   sunshine   and   song  cheer   the   bright   summer 

hours, 

For  he  hears  in  those  haunts  only  music,  and  sees 
Only  rippling  of  waters  and  waving  of  trees  ; 
There  the  red  robin  warbles,  the  honey-bee  hums, 
The  timid  quail  whistles,  the  sly  partridge  drums  ; 
And  if  those  proud  pinions,  perchance,  sweep  along, 
There's  a  shrouding  of  plumage,  a  hushing  of  song  ; 
The  sunlight  falls  stilly  on  leaf  and  on  moss, 
And  there's  naught  but  his  shadow  black  gliding  across  ; 
But  the  dark,  gloomy  gorge,  where  down  plunges  the 

foam 
Of  the  fierce  rock-lashed  torrent,  he  claims  as  his  home  : 


STRANGE  BIRDS  AND   THEIR    WAYS.          269 

There  he  blends  his  keen  shriek  with  the  roar  of  the 

flood, 

And  the  many-voiced  sounds  of  the  blast-smitten  wood. 
7.   "  From  the  crag-grasping  fir- top,  where  morn  hangs  its 

wreath, 

He  views  the  mad  waters  white  writhing  beneath. 
On  a  limb  of  that  moss-bearded  hemlock  far  down, 
With  bright  azure  mantle  and  gay  mottled  crown, 
The  kingfisher  watches,  while  o'er  him  his  foe, 
The  fierce  hawk,  sails  circling,  each  moment  more  low  : 
Now  poised  are  those  pinions  and  pointed  that  beak, 
His  dread  swoop  is  ready,  when  hark  !  with  a  shriek 
His  eye-balls  red  blazing,  high  bristling  his  crest, 
His  snake-like  neck  arched,  talons  drawn  to  his  breast, 
"With  the  rush  of  the  wind-gust,  the  glancing  of  light, 
The  gray  forest  eagle  shoots  down  in  his  flight ; 
One  blow  of  those  talons,  one  plunge  of  that  neck, 
The  strong  hawk  hangs  lifeless,  a  blood-dripping  wreck  : 
And  as  dives  the  freed  kingfisher,  dart-like  on  high 
With  his  prey  soars  the  eagle,  and  melts  in  the  sky." 
8.  Lastly  we  will  get  the  opinion  of  the  shrewd  and 
genial  old  philosopher,  Benjamin  Franklin.     His  remarks 
were  made  when  called  upon  to  examine  a  medal  which 
had  been  struck  oft'  for  the  Cincinnati,  a  society  formed  ex- 
clusively of  officers  who  had   served  in  the  revolutionary 
armies.     This  medal  had  been  criticised  in  its  execution. 
He  says  :  "To  me  it  seems  tolerably  done  ;  but  all  such 
things  are  criticised.     Some  find  fault  with  the  Latin,  as 
wanting  classical  elegance  and  correctness  ;  and  since  our 
nine  universities  were  not  able  to  furnish  better  Latin,  it 
was  a  pity,  they  say,  that  the    mottoes  had  not  been  in 
English.     Others  object  to  the  title,  as  not  properly  as- 
sumable  by  any  but  General  Washington  and  a  few  others 
who  served  without  pay.     Others  object  to  the  bald  eagle, 
as  looking  like  a  turkey. 


270  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

9.  "For  my  own  part,  I  wish  the  bald  eagle  had  not  been 
chosen  as  the  representative  of  our  country ;  he  is  a  bird  of 
bad  moral  character ;  he  does  not  get  his  living  honestly. 
You  may  have  seen  him  perched  on  some  dead  tree,  where, 
too  lazy  to  fish  for  himself,  he  watches  the  labor  of  the 
fishing-hawk  ;  and  when  that  diligent  bird  has  at  length 
taken  a  fish,  and  is  bearing  it  to  his  nest  for  the  support  of 
his  mate  and  young  ones,  the  bald  eagle  pursues  him  and 
takes  it  from  him.     With  all  this  injustice  he  is  never  in 
good  case,  but,  like  those  among  men  who  live  by  sharping 
and  robbing,  he  is  generally  poor,  and  often  very  lousy. 

10.  "Besides,  he  is  a  rank  coward  ;  the  little  king-bird, 
not  bigger  than  a  sparrow,  attacks  him  boldly,  and  drives 
him  out  of  the  district.     He  is,  therefore,  by  no  means  a 
proper  emblem  for  the  brave  and   honest  Cincinnati  of 
America,  who  have  driven  all  the   king-birds  from  our 
country,  though  exactly  fit  for  that  order  of  knights  which 
the   French   call   chevaliers   d'industrie.      I  am,  on   this 
account,  not  displeased  that  the  figure  is  not  known  as  a 
bald  eagle,  but  looks  more  like  a  turkey.     For,  in  truth, 
the  turkey  is,  in  comparison,  a  much  more  respectable  bird, 
and  withal  a  true  original  native  of  America.     Eagles  have 
been  found  in  all  countries,  but  the  turkey  was  peculiar  to 
ours. 

11.  "He  is,  besides  (though  a  little  vain  and  silly,  'tis 
true,  but  not  the  worse  emblem  for  that),  a  bird  of  cour- 
age, and  would  not  hesitate  to  attack  a  grenadier  of  the 
British  Guards,  who  should  presume  to  invade  his  farm- 
yard with  a  red  coat  on." 


PART  XI. 
OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS. 


THE  PET  OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

1.  WEBSTER,  in  an  early  edition  of  his  dictionary,  goes 
out  of  his  way  to  abuse  the  creature,  and  even  makes  him- 
self little  less  than  slanderous.     "  The  domestic  cat,"  he 
says,  "  is  a  deceitful  animal,  and,  when  enraged,  extremely 
spiteful.     It  is  kept  in  houses  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of 
catching  rats  and  mice." 

2.  Would  a  dog  have  done  worse  ?     In  all  the  sixty 
thousand  words  of  the  English  language,  which,  of  course, 
the  great  lexicographer  knew  by  heart,  could  he  not  find  a 
couple  of  dozen  that  would  have  been  more  applicable,  or 
at  least  more  charitable  ?    If  he  had  been  born  as  weak  as 
pussy,  and  had  found  it  as  hard  to  escape  kicks  and  pick 
up  a  living,  might  he  not  have  grown  up  a  bit  of  a  diplo- 
matist ?    I  should  like  to  know,  also,  whether  he  was  not 
himself  subject  to  be  "  extremely  spiteful  when  enraged." 

3.  Then,  too,  "  kept  in  houses  chiefly  for  the  purpose 
of  catching  rats  and  mice  "  !      No  account  taken  of  the 
gamesome  ways  of  kittens  ;  of  the  pleasure  derivable  from 
the  grateful  purr,  the  gracious  movements,  the  furry  ca- 
resses ;  of  the  affection  which  man,  woman,  and  child  have 
lavished  upon  the  most  pettable  of  all  pets.     It  is  enough  to 


272  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

make  one  reject  Webster's  derivations,  and  throw  overboard 
his  new  orthographies. 

4.  As  a  member  of  the  living  household  which  man  has 
pleased  himself  in  collecting,  the  cat  is  useful  but  not  slav- 
ish.    The  bargain  which  he  struck  with  us  was  not  submis- 
sion, as  was  the  case  with  the  dog,  but  alliance.     "House 
me,"  he  said,  "  smooth  my  back,  give  me  a  bed  for  my 
morning  naps,  and  I'll  kill  your  rats  and  purr  to  you."' 
What  right  have  we  to  demand  slavishness  ?    We  are  too 
ready  to  suppose  that  everything  was  made  for  man.    Per- 
haps the  feline  intellect  and  sense  of  justice  have  reached 
the  conclusion  that  cats  were  made  for  themselves.     Have 
they  not  a  right  to  be  as  egotistic  as  we  ? 

5.  It  is  estimated  that  the  rats  and  mice  of  England 
annually  consume  grain  enough  to  feed  three  millions  of 
human  beings  ;  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  incessant  exertions 
of  the  cats,  these  rodents  might  root  out  the  present  popu- 
lation of  the  island,  as  the  Saxons  rooted  out  the  Celtic 
Britons.     Add  to  this  salvation  the  innocent  and  home-like 
pleasure  furnished  ;  the  amusing  pranks  of  say  one  hun- 
dred  thousand  kittens  ;  the  multitudinous  purrings  and 
rubbings,  and  grave  trickeries  and  expositions  of  instinct ; 
the  old  ladies  and  invalids  and  lonesome  ones  whose  lives 
are  cheered  ;  the  children  who  are  provided  with  a  living 
doll.     True,  some  birds  suffer  ;  but  may  there  not  be  birds 
enough  for  all  ?     On  the  whole,  there  must  be  a  large  bal- 
ance due  the  cats. 

6.  In  spite  of  slanders  to  the  contrary,  the  animal  is 
capable  of  affection  for  persons.     I  had  one  that  used  to 
walk  up  and  down  the  room  with  me  ;  another  that  ran 
about  after  me  all  over  the  house.     A  third,  after  a  separa- 
tion of  five  months,  greeted  me  with  extravagant  demon- 
strations of  joy,  leaping  into  my  lap,  down  again,  up  again, 
rolling  over,   tremulous  from  head   to  foot,    and  all  the 
while  purring  to  split  his  throat.     A  cat  belonging  to  a 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  273 

lady  who  died  some  years  since  was  one  of  the  most  pa- 
thetic of  mourners,  insisting  with  affectionate  persistence 
upon  sitting  by  the  body,  wailing  as  if  his  heart  would 
break,  and  remaining  for  a  long  time  inconsolable.  In- 
stances of  this  sort  are  by  no  means  uncommon. 

7.  It  is  true  that,  in  general,  the  cat  is  fonder  of  places 
than  of  people.     He  likes  the  old  home  because  he  knows 
it  thoroughly  ;  because  he  has  investigated  its  every  mouse- 
hole  and  studied  the  advantages  of  its  every  retreat  from 
dogs  and  other  enemies ;  because  he,  a  weak  animal,  feels 
sure  that  he  can  there  feed  and  protect  himself.     More- 
over, his  bump  of  locality  is  prodigious,  as  is  shown  by  the 
ease  with  which  he   finds  his  way  back  to  the  familiar 
spot,  though  carried  blindfold  a  long  distance  from  it.     A 
friend  of  mine  transported  a  cat  several  times  five  miles 
from  home,  and  dismissed  it  into  the  wide  liberty  of  earth, 
only  to  find  it  at  his  house  when  he  returned,  or  very  shortly 
afterward. 

8.  Do  cats  have  intellect  ?     Observe  the  patient  intelli- 
gence with  which  he  performs  his  special  duty  of  watching 
for  prey.     He  loves  ease  and  warmth  ;  but  he  will  sit  for 
hours  in   the   cold    beside   a  mouse-hole  ;   and  before  he 
commenced  his  siege  he  had  examined  the  whole  room,  to 
see  if  there  was  any  other  exit  for  the  vermin  ;  he  had  ef- 
fected a  reconnoissance  which  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
Mohawk  scalp-hunter  or  an  experienced  general.     During 
the  last  summer  my  two  youthful  cats  accomplished  such  a 
slaughter  of  birds  as   made   my  heart    ache,   bringing  in 
one  or  two  nearly  every  day.      Now  it  must  require  no 
little  reflection,  caution,  and  adroitness  to  enable  an  ani- 
mal who  has  merely  legs  to  catch  one  who  has  both  legs 
and  wings.      If  the  reader  doubts,   let  him  try  it,   and, 
though  he  take  a  bag  of  salt  with  him,  I  wager  that  he 
does  not  bring  home    a   robin.      It   was  amusing   to  ob- 
serve   the   plaintive    mew   of   annoyance  with   which  my 


274  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

hunters  watched  a  bird  who  was  obviously  beyond  their 
reach. 

9.  Champfleury  tells  us  of  a  cat  who  used   to   divide 
her  game  between  her  master  and  her  kittens,  only  she 
always  brought  her  rats  to  the  former  and  her  mice  to 
the  latter,  judging   that  the  larger  creature   needed   and 
could  manage  the  bigger  mouthfuls.      My  Maltese  opens 
a  door  which  is  ajar  most  judiciously ;    he   does  not  put 
nose  or  foot  into  the   opening,  knowing  that  the  former 
might  get  banged  and  the  latter  pinched  ;  he  places  one 
paw  against   the  obstacle,  braces  himself  side  wise  on  the 
other  three  legs,  and  so  pushes  ;  the  operation    is  admi- 
rable for  caution  and  for  calculation  of  the  needed  power. 

10.  In  Greenville,  South   Carolina,  I   had   the  honor 
of  knowing   a   magnificent   torn,  weighing  eight  pounds, 
who  opened  doors  by  leaping  up,  seizing  the  knob  forci- 
bly between  his   fore-paws,  and   turning   it,  his  only  de- 
fect in  the  matter  being  that  he  could  not  close  the  door 
after  him.      Some   years    ago  a   family  residing   in   New 
Haven,   Connecticut,    was  alarmed  by  what  the  servants 
supposed  to  be    a  ghost,    and    the    lady  of   the  house   a 
thief.     An   outside   door  was    repeatedly  opened,  no   one 
entering  but  the  cat.     In  spite  of  watching,  nobody  was 
discovered,    and    the    mystery  grew  to   be  frightful.     At 
last  the  ghost  was  caught,  and  it  proved  to  be  pussy.    She 
had  observed,  she  had  reflected,  she  had  drawn  an  infer- 
ence ;  in  other  words,  she  had  performed  the  distinct  in- 
tellectual operations.     The  result  was,  that  she  knew  how 
to  open  doors  by  leaping   up    to   the  latch  and  pressing 
her  paw  on  the  thumb-piece. 

11.  Champfleury  relates  another  story  which  shows  the 
feline  power  of  observation  and  reasoning.      A   German 
baron  had  noticed  that  his  cat  was  much  interested  in  the 
mysteries  of  mirrors,  looking  at  her  own  reflection  in  them, 
withdrawing,  approaching,  and  scratching  at  the  frames. 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  2T5 

His  mirrors  being  all  set  in  pieces  of  furniture,  and  an  ob- 
stacle being  thereby  put  in  the  way  of  the  animal's  investi- 
gations, he  bought  for  her  especial  use  a  toilet-glass,  and 
placed  it  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Pussy  discovered  it, 
walked  up  to  it,  and  thus  assured  herself  that  it  resembled 
the  others.  Next  she  rushed  behind  it  repeatedly,  each 
time  running  faster  than  before.  Not  catching  a  cat  in 
this  manner,  she  went  to  the  edge  of  the  mirror,  and  looked 
first  along  the  rear  and  then  along  the  front. 

12.  Her  conclusion  evidently  was  that,  as  this  strange 
creature  which  she  had  seen  was  neither  before  the  glass 
nor  behind  it,  it  must  be  inside.  Sitting  up  on  her  hind 
legs,  she  stretched  out  her  fore  paws,  and  carefully  felt  the 
thickness  of  the  plate,  until  she  had  satisfied  herself  that  it 
was  too  thin  to  contain  anything  of  the  bigness  of  the  cat. 
This  fact  established  in  her  mind,  she  seemed  to  come  to 
the  decision  that  here  was  a  phenomenon  which  was  be- 
yond the  circle  of  her  ideas,  and  which  it  was  therefore 
useless  for  her  to  investigate  ;  and,  giving  it  up  with  a 
common-sense  promptness  worthy  of  the  imitation  of  many 
human  philosophers  who  have  got  beyond  their  depth,  she 
walked  away  from  the  mirror,  and  never  after  was  seen  to 

look  into  one.  ^    W.  De  Forest. 


OUR   CANINE    SERVANTS. 

1.  AMONG  all  the  lower  animals,  the  dog  has  ever  been 
considered  the  most  genuine  friend  and  faithful  servant  of 
man.  Bred  in  the  household  and  fed  from  the  family 
table,  he  has  apparently  absorbed  many  human  attributes, 
and  in  his  domesticated  state  he  is  more  widely  different 
from  his  wild  progenitors  than  any  other  animal.  He  has 
shown  himself  capable  of  instruction  in  a  very  remarkable 
degree,  and  the  instruction  of  one  generation  has  been 


276  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

transmitted  to  the  next  in  the  form  of  inherited  tendencies, 
until  we  have  breeds  of  dogs  differing  from  each  other  in 
appearance,  temper,  and  habits  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
make  it  seem  impossible  that  they  could  have  had  a  com- 
mon origin. 

2.  The  intelligence  displayed  by  dogs  in  the  accom- 
plishment of  their  purposes,  and  often  in  adapting  means 
to  ends  in  a  new  emergency,  appears  to  differ  from  human 
reason  in  degree  rather  than  in  kind.     The  intellectual 
manifestations,  however,  are  not  very  wide  in  their  scope, 
and  are  mostly  confined  to  the  field  of  activity  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  breed.     When  the  idea  derived  from  inher- 
itance takes  full  possession  of  them,  for  the  time  being  it 
seems  that  nothing  can  divert  them  from  the  movements 
which  this  idea  prompts.     A  hunting-dog  on  the  track  of 
game  can  not  be  turned  aside,  and,  though  usually  quickly 
obedient  to  his  master's  voice,  he  now  seems  entirely  ob- 
livious to  it,  overmastered  by  the  mighty  instinct  derived 
from  his  long  line  of  ancestry.     The  shepherd's  dog  will 
not  desert  his  charge  even  to  get  food  to  save  him  from 
starvation. 

3.  The  dog's  peculiar  intellectual  development,   how- 
ever, appears  to  be  entirely  of  human  origin.     The  primal 
instinct  which  led  him  to  seek  his  food  by  hunting  has  been 
so  modified  by  human  training  as  to  almost  lose  its  origi- 
nal character,  and  in  its  place  we  find  the  diversified  char- 
acteristics which  now  mark    the   species.     Dogs  left   to 
themselves  could  not  have  developed  in  these  various  ways, 
human  companionship  and  direction  being  necessary  factors 
in  the  result. 

4.  In  other  ways  the  dog  has  shown  a  great  superiority, 
over  the  whole  brute  creation,  and  these  are  in  affection 
for  his  human  associates  and  in  faithfulness  to  their  inter- 
ests.    While  dogs  show  great  fondness  for  each  other,  the 
depth  of  their  emotion  is  shown  only  toward  their  masters 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  277 

and  human  friends.  At  times  they  seem  to  almost  lose  their 
animal  propensities,  and  to  be  transformed  into  living  em- 
bodiments of  virtues  which  are  usually  considered  essen- 
tially human.  Thus,  they  show  gratitude  for  favors  re- 
ceived, fidelity  to  trusts  committed  to  them,  a  sensitiveness 
which  sometimes  appears  almost  superhuman,  and  an  ab- 
solute devotion  which  proves  stronger  than  the  love  of  life. 
We  can  here  illustrate  these  points  only  in  a  few  directions. 

5.  All    dogs,    more   or  less,   are   susceptible  of   being 
taught,  and  teachability  infers  culture  of  the  brain,  the 
possibility  of  an  enlarged  intelligence.     Without  training, 
a  pointer  would  point  at  any  kind  of  vermin  as  readily  as 
at  the  game  of  which  the  sportsman  is  in  quest,  but  a  well- 
trained  pointer  will  make  no  such  mistake.    Without  train- 
ing, he  would  only  stand  pointing  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
run  in  upon  the  game  and  put  it  up ;  but  a  well-trained 
pointer  waits  till  he  receives  the  word  of  command,  when 
his  master  has  come  near  enough  to  use  his  gun. 

6.  It  may  be  in  part  through  instinct  that  a  shepherd's 
dog  performs  many  of  the  important  services  which  he  ren- 
ders to  his  master  in  the  driving  and  tending  of  sheep  ; 
but  it  can  not  be  altogether  through  instinct,  for  the  best 
shepherd's  dogs  are  always  those  which  have  been  carefully 
trained.     Even  that  which  the  shepherd's  dog  does  with- 
out training,  and  which  seems  natural  to  him  from  his 
puppyhood,  is  probably  very  much  to  be  ascribed  to  what 
is  called  hereditary  instinct,  the  fruit  of  the  training  of 
many  successive  generations.     But  all  can  not  be  ascribed 
to  instinct,  whether  natural  to  the  race,  or  acquired  and 
become  hereditary.     How  can  any  one  think  so  who  has 
observed  a  shepherd's  dog  at  his  work,  and  marked  his 
prompt   obedience   to   the   command  of  his   master — how 
readily  he  understands  each  word   or  sign,   and  at  once 
hastens  to  do  what  he  is  bidden  ? — perhaps  to  bring  in  a 
number  of  sheep  from  a  distance,  which  he  accomplishes 


278  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

very  quickly,  and  yet  without  hurrying  them  too  much, 
for  he  is  very  careful  not  to  do  them  any  harm  ;  and  his 
barking,  although  sharp,  is  not  angry,  nor  do  the  sheep 
seem  to  think  so,  or  to  be  in  the  least  degree  alarmed,  for 
they  also  have  profited  by  experience,  and  they  know  him 
and  his  ways. 

7.  Let  the   object  of  the   shepherd  be   to  get   sheep 
through  a  gate  :  the  dog  evidently  perceives  it  at  once,  and 
knows  what  to  do — to  bark  behind  the  sheep,  to  run  before 
them  and  bark,  to  drive  them  to  the  gate,  and  to  prevent 
their  passing  it.     More  remarkable  still,  and  most  decid- 
edly an  evidence  of  the  possession  of  reason,  is  the  fact  that 
a  good  shepherd's  dog  will  assist  a  sheep  to  rise  when  it  has 
fallen,  rolled  over  on  its  back,  and  can  not  get  up  again, 
because,  in  consequence  of  its  thick  fleece,  it  can  not  get  a 
foot  to  the  ground.     This  often  happens,  especially  on 
hill-pastures,  in  the  latter  part  of  spring  and  beginning  of 
summer,  before  the  sheep-shearing  time,  and  the  shepherd 
must  visit  his  flock  several  times  a  day,  lest  the  sheep  that 
have  rolled  over  on  their  backs  should  die.     But  his  dog 
saves  him  much  walking  and  fatigue,  scouring  over  the  hill 
for  him,  and,  as  soon  as  he  finds  a  sheep  on  its  back,  pro- 
ceeding to  turn  it  over  with  his  muzzle,  till  it  gets  its  feet 
to  the  ground  so  that  it  is  able  to  rise. 

8.  The  shepherd's  dog,  or,  at  all  events,  the  collie  of 
the  south  of  Scotland,  which  I  take  to  be  the  most  refined 
and  cultivated  breed  of  shepherd's  dog,  shows  himself  also 
very  sensible  of  affront,  and  vexed  by  it.     He  has  a  ready 
appetite  for  oat-cakes — oatmeal  in  one  form  or  other,  but 
mostly  in  that  of  porridge,  being  a  chief  part  of  his  food, 
as  it  is  of  his  master's  ;  and  he  will  at  any  time  gladly  re- 
ceive a  little  bit  of  oat-cake ;  but  let  any  one  hold  out  to 
him  a  very  large  piece,  and  he  evidently  thinks  it  a  cruel 
jest,  feels  himself  insulted,  turns  away  his  head,  and  will 
not  look  at  the  cake,  far  less  accept  it.     We  know  of  no 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  279 

other  kind  of  dog  that  so  generally  shows  his  fastidious- 
ness. We  have  tried  the  experiment  with  collies,  and  al- 
ways with  one  result :  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
a  very  large  piece  of  bread. 

9.  No  wonder  that  the  sheep-dog  is  a  favorite  of  his 
master,  and  is  treated  as  a  kind  of  humble  friend.     He  is 
not  turned  into  a  kennel  nor  into  an  outhouse  when  he 
comes  home  from  his  work ;  his  place  is  at  the  fireside, 
where  he  often  wags  his  tail  and  puts  on  a  very  intelligent 
look,  as  if  he  understood  some  part  of  the  conversation 
that  takes  place.     Certainly  "Collie"  knows  well  enough 
when  he  is  spoken  of,  and  dogs  of  some  other  kinds  evi- 
dently do  so  too.     They  know  when  they  are  alluded  to  in 
terms  of  praise  and  when  with  blame  ;  in  the  former  case, 
giving  unmistakable  signs  of  delight ;  in  the  latter,  hang- 
ing their  heads  and  looking  ashamed. 

10.  It  is  worthy  to  be  observed  concerning  the  shep- 
herd's dog  that  no  severity  is  ever  used  in  his  training. 
The  shepherd  has  no  dog- whip.    A  single  punishment,  such 
as  a  gamekeeper  often  finds  or  thinks  it  necessary  to  in- 
flict on  a  pointer,  would  spoil  a  collie  altogether  and  make 
him  worthless  for  life.     He  would  not  resent  it  by  turn- 
ing savagely  on  his  master,  but  he  would  at  once  become 
broken-spirited  and  inert.     Words  of  commendation  or  of 
censure  are  all  that  he  needs,  all  that  suits  his  nature. 
The  same  thing  may  be  observed  in  animals  of  some  other 
kinds — as  in  the  elephant  and  in  the  finest 'breeds  of  horses. 

11.  The  fine  feelings  of  the  Scottish  shepherd's  dog, 
and  his  capability  of  having  his  feelings  deeply  wounded, 
are   sometimes   very   strikingly  illustrated.      The    grand- 
father of  the  present  writer  had  an  excellent  collie,  by 
name  Wattie,  which  was  a  great  favorite,  and  greatly  at- 
tached to  him  and  to  all  the  family.     When  the  dog  grew 
old  and  feeble,  it  was  thought  necessary  to  get  another 
one  ;  but,  on  the  new  dog's  arrival,  poor  old  Wattie  left  his 


280  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

place  at  the  fireside  and  went  out  to  a  green  bank  beside  a 
pond,  where  he  lay  down,  and  no  persuasions  could  induce 
him  to  return  to  the  house.  He  wagged  his  tail  a  little 
when  kindly  spoken  to,  but  he  continued  to  lie  in  the  same 
spot,  and  would  not  rise.  He  refused  food,  and  in  two 
days  he  was  dead.  He  seems  to  have  felt  that  his  day  was 
over,  that  his  services  were  no  longer  valued,  and  his  old 
place  no  longer  his,  and  took  it  all  to  signify  that  his  time 
was  come  to  die.  His  death,  however,  seems  not  to  have 
been  the  result  of  mere  old  age,  but  to  have  been  hastened 
by  his  wounded  feelings. 

12.  The  Ettrick  shepherd  gives  the  following  graphic 
account  of  his  dog  Sirrah  :  "  He  was,  beyond  all  compari- 
son, the  best  dog  I  ever  saw.     He  was  of  a  surly,  unsocial 
temper,  disdaining  all  flattery ;  he  refused  to  be  caressed, 
but  his  attentions  to  my  commands  and  interests  will  never 
again,  perhaps,  be   equaled  by  any  of  the   canine   race. 
When  I  first  saw  him  a  drover  was  leading  him  by  a  rope  ; 
he  was  both  lean  and  hungry,  and  far  from  being  a  beau- 
tiful animal,  for  he  was  almost  all  black,  and  had  a  grim 
face,   striped   with   dark   brown.     The   man   had   bought 
him  of  a  boy  somewhere  on  the  border  for  three  shillings, 
and  had  fed  him  very  ill  on  the  journey.     I  thought  I 
discovered  a  sort  of  sullen  intelligence  in  his  countenance, 
notwithstanding  his  dejected  and  forlorn  appearance.     I 
gave  the  drover  a  guinea  for  him,  and  I  believe  there  was 
never  a  guinea  so  well  laid  out,  at  least  I  am  satisfied  I 
never  laid  one  out  to  so  good  a  purpose. 

13.  "  He  was  scarcely  a  year  old,  and  knew  so  little  of 
herding  that  he  had  never  turned  a  sheep  in  his  life  ;  but, 
as  soon  as  he  discovered  that  it  was  his  duty  to  do  so,  and 
that  it  obliged  me,  I  can  never  forget  with  what  anxiety 
and  eagerness  he  learned  his  different  evolutions.      He 
would  try  every  way  deliberately,  till  he  found  out  what  I 
wanted  him  to  do,  and  when  once  I  made  him  understand 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  281 

a  direction,  he  never  forgot  or  mistook  it  again.  Well  as 
I  knew  him,  he  often  astonished  me  ;  for,  when  hard  pressed 
in  accomplishing  the  task  that  he  was  put  to,  he  had  ex- 
pedients of  the  moment  that  bespoke  a  great  share  of  the 
reasoning  faculty. 

14.  "On   one   occasion   about    seven   hundred    lambs, 
which  were  under  his  care  at  weaning  time,  broke  away  at 
midnight  and  scampered,  in  three  divisions,  across  the  hills, 
in  spite  of  all  I  and  my  assistant  could  do  to  keep  them  to- 
gether.    The  night  was  so  dark  that  we  could  not  see  Sir- 
rah, but  he  heard  me  lament  their  absence  in  words  which 
of  all  others  were  sure  to  set  him  most  on  the  alert,  and, 
without  more  ado,  he  silently  set  off  in  quest  of  the  rec- 
reant flock.     We  spent  the  whole  night  in  scouring  the 
hills  for  miles  around,  but  neither  of  the  lambs  or  Sirrah 
could  we  obtain  the  slightest  trace.     It  was  the  most  ex- 
traordinary circumstance  that  ever  happened  in  the  annals 
of  pastoral  life.     At  dawn  we  set  out  on  our  return,  with  the 
comforting  assurance  that  the  whole  flock  of  lambs  was  lost, 
and  that  we  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  one  of  them. 

15.  "On  our  way  home,  however,  we  discovered  a  lot 
of  lambs  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  ravine,  and  the  indefati- 
gable Sirrah,  standing  in  front  of  them,  looking  around 
for  some  relief,  but  still  true  to  his  charge.     The  sun  was 
then  up,  and,  when  we  first  came  in  view,  we  concluded 
that  it  was  one  of  the  divisions  which  Sirrah  had  been  un- 
able to  manage  until  he  came  to  that  commanding  situa- 
tion.    But  what  was  our  astonishment  when  we  discovered 
that  not  one  lamb  of  the  whole  flock  was  missing.     The 
charge  was  left  entirely  to  himself  from  midnight  until  the 
rising  sun  ;  and  if  all  the  shepherds  in  the  forest  had  been 
there  to  assist  him,  they  could  not  have  effected  it  with 
greater  propriety.     All  that  I  can  say  further  is  that  I 
never  felt  so  grateful  to  any  creature  under  the  sun  as  I 
did  to  my  honest  Sirrah  that  morning. 


282  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

16.  "It  is  a  curious  fact  in  the  history  of  these  ani- 
mals that  the  most  useless  of  the  breed  have  often  the 
greatest  degree  of  sagacity  in  trifling  and  useless  matters. 
An  exceedingly  good  sheep-dog  attends  to  nothing  else  but 
that  particular  branch  of  business  to  which  he  is  bred. 
His  whole  capacity  is  exerted  and  exhausted  upon  it,  and 
he  is  of  little  avail  in  miscellaneous  matters ;  whereas  a 
very  indiiferent  cur,  bred  about  the  house  and  accustomed 
to  assist  in  everything,  will  often  put  the  more  noble  breed 
to  disgrace  in  these  services.     If  one  calls  out,  for  instance, 
that  the  cows  are  in  the  corn,  or  the  hens  are  in  the  gar- 
den, the  house-collie  needs  no  other  hint,  but  runs  and 
turns  them  out.     The  shepherd's  dog  knows  not  what  is 
astir,  and,  if  he  is  called  out  in  a  hurry  for  such  work,  all 
that  he  will  do  is  to  break  to  the  hill  and  rear  himself  up 
on  end  to  see  if  no  sheep  are  running  away. 

17.  "A  well-bred  sheep-dog,  if  coming  hungry  from 
the  hills,  and  getting  into  the  milk-house,  would,  most 
likely,   think   of  nothing  else   than   filling  himself  with 
cream.    Not  so  his  lowly  brother  ;  he  has  been  bred  at  home 
to  form  higher  principles  of  honor.     I  have  known  such  to 
lie,  night  and  day,  among  from  ten  to  twenty  pans  full  of 
milk,  and  never  once  break  the  cream  of  one  of  them  with 
the  tip  of  his  tongue,  nor  would  he  suffer  cat,  rat,  or  any 
other  creature  to  touch  it.     This  latter  sort,  too,  are  far 
more  acute  in  taking  up  what  is  said  in  a  family." 

18.  Sir  Walter  Scott  says  :  "  The  wisest  dog  I  ever  had 
was  what  is  called  the  bull-dog  terrier.     I  taught  him  to 
understand  a  great  many  words,  insomuch  that  I  am  posi- 
tive that  the  communication  between  the  canine  species  and 
ourselves  might  be  greatly  enlarged.     Camp  one  day  bit 
the  baker  who  was  bringing  bread  to  the  family.     I  beat 
him,    and   explained    the   enormity   of   his   oifense,   after 
which,  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life,  he  never  heard  the 
least  allusion  to  the  story,  in  whatever  voice  or  tone  it  was 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  283 

mentioned,  without  getting  up  and  retiring  into  the  dark- 
est corner  of  the  room  with  the  greatest  appearance  of  dis- 
tress. Then  if  you  said,  'The  baker  was  well  paid/  or 
'  The  baker  was  not  hurt  after  all/  Camp  came  forth  from 
his  hiding-place,  capered,  and  barked  and  rejoiced." 

Chambers' s  Journal. 


CONSCIENCE    IN    ANIMALS. 

1.  ONE  of   the  prevailing  theories  in  regard  to  con- 
science is  that  it  is  the  resultant  of  intelligence  combined 
with  the  instinct  of  sociability  and  the  emotion  of  sympa- 
thy, and  that  its  germs  may  be  found  in  the  lower  animals. 
If  this  be  true,  we  must  look  for  its  manifestations  in  the 
three  groups  of  dogs,  elephants,  and  monkeys,  where  alone 
we  find  the  conditions  essential  to  any  considerable  devel- 
opment of  the  moral  sense. 

2.  I  need  not  say  anything  about  the  intelligence  or 
the  sociability  of  these  animals,  for  it  is  proverbial  that 
there  are  no  animals  so  intelligent  or  more  social.     It  is 
necessary,  however,  to  say  a  few  words  about  sympathy. 
In  the  case  of  dogs,  sympathy  exists  in  an  extraordinary 
degree.     I  have  myself  seen  the  life  of  a  terrier  saved  by 
another  dog  which  staid  in  the  same  house  with  him,  and 
with  which  he  had  always  lived  in  a  state  of  bitter  enmity. 
Yet,  when  the  terrier  was  one  day  attacked  by  a  large  dog, 
which  shook  him  by  the  back,  and  would  certainly  have 
killed  him,  his  habitual  enemy  rushed  to  the  rescue,  and, 
after  saving  the  terrier,  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  away 
himself. 

3.  Dr.  Hooker  informs  me  that  an  elephant,  which  he 
was  riding  in  India,  became  so  deeply  bogged  that  he  re- 
mained stuck  fast  until  next  day,  when  he  was  extracted 


284  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

by  means  of  ropes.  Under  such  circumstances  elephants 
seize  with  their  trunks  any  object,  dead  or  alive,  to  place 
under  their  knees,  to  prevent  their  sinking  deeper  in  the 
mud  ;  and  the  driver  was  dreadfully  afraid  lest  the  animal 
should  have  seized  Dr.  Hooker  and  crushed  him  to  death. 
But  the  driver  himself,  as  Dr.  Hooker  was  assured,  ran  no 
risk.  This  forbearance,  under  an  emergency  so  dreadful 
for  a  heavy  animal,  is  a  wonderful  proof  of  noble  fidelity. 

4.  Many  cases  of  sympathy  in  monkeys  might  be  given, 
but  I  shall  confine  myself  to  stating  one  which  I  myself 
witnessed  at  the  Zoological  Gardens.     A  year  or  two  ago 
there  was  an  Arabian  baboon  and  an  Anubis  baboon  con- 
fined in  one  cage,  adjoining  that  which  contained  a  dog- 
headed    baboon.      The   Anubis   baboon   passed    its   hand 
through  the  wires  of  the  partition  in  order  to  purloin  a 
nut  which  the  large  dog-headed  baboon  had  left  within 
reach — expressly,  I  believe,  that  it  might  act  as  a  bait. 
The  Anubis  baboon  very  well  knew  the  danger  he  ran,  for 
he  waited  until  his  bulky  neighbor  had  turned  his  back 
upon  the  nut  with  the  appearance  of  having  forgotten  all 
about  it.     The  dog-headed  baboon,  however,  was  all  the 
time  slyly  looking  round  with  the  corner  of  his  eye,  and  no 
sooner  was  the  arm  of  his  victim  well  within  his  cage  than 
he  sprang  with  astonishing  rapidity  and  caught  the  retreat- 
ing hand  in  his  mouth.     The  cries  of  the  Anubis  baboon 
quickly  brought  the  keeper  to  the  rescue,  when,  by  dint  of 
a  good  deal  of  physical  persuasion,  the  dog-headed  baboon 
was  induced  to  let  go  his  hold.     The  Anubis  baboon  then 
retired  to  the  middle  of  his  cage,  moaning  piteously,  and 
holding  the  injured  hand  against  his  chest  while  he  rubbed 
it  with  the  other  one. 

5.  The  Arabian  baboon  now  approached  him  from  the 
top  part  of  the  cage,  and,  while  making  a  soothing  sound, 
very  expressive  of  sympathy,  folded  the  sufferer  in  its  arms 
— exactlv  as  a  mother  would  her  child  under  similar  cir- 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  285 

cumstances.  It  must  be  stated,  also,  that  this  expression 
of  sympathy  had  a  decidedly  quieting  effect  upon  the  suf- 
ferer, his  moans  becoming  less  piteous  so  soon  as  he  was 
infolded  in  the  arms  of  his  comforter  ;  and  the  manner  in 
which  he  laid  his  cheek  upon  the  bosom  of  his  friend  was 
as  expressive  as  anything  could  be  of  sympathy  appreciated. 
This  really  affecting  spectacle  lasted  a  considerable  time, 
and,  while  watching  it,  I  felt  that,  even  had  it  stood  alone, 
it  would  in  itself  have  been  sufficient  to  prove  the  essential 
identity  of  some  of  the  noblest  among  human  emotions 
with  those  of  the  lower  animals. 

6.  I  have  a  setter  just  now  which  has  been  made  a  pet 
of  since  a  puppy.     As  he  has  a  very  fine  nose,  and  is  at  lib- 
erty to  go  wherever  he  pleases,  he  often  finds  bits  of  food 
which  he  very  well  knows  he  has  no  right  to  take.     If  the 
food  he  finds  happens  to  be  of  a  dainty  description,  his  con- 
scientious scruples  are  overcome  by  the  temptations  of  ap- 
petite ;  but  if  the  food  should  be  of  a  less  palatable  kind,  he 
generally  carries  it  to  me  in  order  to  obtain  my  permission 
to  eat  it.     Now,  as  no  one  ever  beats  or  even  scolds  this  dog 
for  stealing,  his  only  object  in  thus  asking  permission  to 
eat  what  he  finds  must  be  that  of  quieting  his  conscience. 
It  should  be  added  that  when  he  brings  stolen  property  to 
me  it  does  not  always  follow  that  he  is  allowed  to  keep  it. 

7.  One  other  curious  fact  may  here  be  mentioned  about 
this  dog.      Although   naturally  a  very  vivacious    animal, 
and,  when  out  for  a  walk  with  myself  or  any  other  young 
person,  perpetually  ranging  about  in  search  of  game,  yet  if 
taken  out  for  a  walk  by  an  elderly  person  he  keeps  close 
to  heel  all  the  time — pacing  along  with  a  slow  step  and  se- 
date manner,  as  different  as  possible  from  that  which  is 
natural  to  him.     This  curious  behavior  is  quite  spontaneous 
on  his  part,  and  appears  to  rise  from  his  sense  of  the  re- 
spect that  is  due  to  age. 

8.  A  terrier  I  once  owned  used  to  be  very  fond  of  catch- 


286  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

ing  flies  upon  the  window-panes,  and  if  ridiculed  when  un- 
successful, was  evidently  much  annoyed.  On  one  occasion, 
in  order  to  see  what  he  would  do,  I  purposely  laughed  im- 
moderately every  time  he  failed.  It  so  happened  that  he 
did  so  several  times  in  succession — partly,  I  believe,  in  con- 
sequence of  my  laughing — and  eventually  he  became  so  dis- 
tressed that  he  positively  pretended  to  catch  the  fly,  going 
through  all  the  appropriate  actions  with  his  lips  and  tongue, 
and  afterward  rubbing  the  ground  with  his  neck  as  if  to 
kill  the  victim  ;  he  then  looked  up  at  me  with  a  triumph- 
ant air  of  success.  So  well  was  the  whole  process  simu- 
lated that  I  should  have  been  quite  deceived  had  I  not 
seen  that  the  fly  was  still  upon  the  window.  Accordingly, 
I  drew  his  attention  to  this  fact,  as  well  as  to  the  absence  of 
anything  upon  the  floor ;  and,  when  he  saw  that  his  hy- 
pocrisy had  been  detected,  he  slunk  away  under  some  fur- 
niture, evidently  very  much  ashamed  of  himself. 

9.  The  terrier  in  question  far  surpassed  any  animal  I 
ever  knew  in  the  keen  sensitiveness  of  his  feelings,  and  he 
was  never  beaten  in  his  life.     One  day  he  was  shut  up  in  a 
room  by  himself  while  everybody  in  the  house  went  out. 
Seeing  his  friends  from  the  window  as  they  departed,  he 
appears  to  have  been  overcome  by  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  for, 
when  I  returned,  I  found  that  he  had  torn  all  the  bottom 
of   the  window-curtains  to  shreds.     When  I   first  opened 
the  door,  he  jumped  about  as  dogs  do  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances, having,  in  his  joy  to  see  me,  apparently  for- 
gotten the  damage  he  had  done.     But  when,  without  speak- 
ing, I  picked  up  one  of  the  torn  shreds  of  the  curtains,  the 
terrier  gave  a  howl,  and,  rushing  out  of  the  room,  ran  up- 
stairs screaming  as  loudly  as  he  was  able. 

10.  It  is  remarkable,  also,  that  this  animal's  sensitive- 
ness was  not  only  of  a  selfish  kind,  bat  extended  itself  in 
sympathy  for  others.     Whenever  he  saw  a  man  striking  a 
dog,  whether  in  the  house  or  outside,  near  at  hand  or  at  a 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  287 

distance,  he  used  to  rush  to  the  protection  of  his  fellow, 
snarling  and  snapping  in  a  most  threatening  way.  Again, 
when  driving  with  me  in  a  dog-cart,  he  always  used  to  seize 
the  sleeve  of  my  coat  every  time  1  touched  the  horse  with 
the  whip. 

11.  I  had  had  this  dog  for  several  years,  and  had  never 
— even  in  his  puppyhood — known  him  to  steal.     On  the 
contrary,  he  used   to  make  an  excellent  guard  to  protect 
property  from  other  animals,  servants,  etc.,  even  though 
these  were  his  best  friends.     Nevertheless,  on  one  occasion 
he  was  very  hungry,  and  in  the  room  where  I  was  read- 
ing and   he  was   sitting  there  was,  within   easy  reach,  a 
savory  mutton-chop.     I  was  greatly  surprised  to  see  him 
stealthily  remove  this  chop  and  take  it  under  a  sofa.     How- 
ever, I  pretended  not  to  observe  what  had  occurred,  and 
waited  to  see  what  would  happen  next.     For  fully  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  this  terrier  remained  under  the  sofa  without 
making  a  sound,  but  doubtless  enduring  an  agony  of  con- 
tending feelings.     Eventually,  however,  conscience  came 
off  victorious,  for,  emerging  from  his  place  of  concealment 
and  carrying  in  his  mouth  the  stolen  chop,  he  came  across 
the  room  and  laid  the  tempting  morsel  at  my  feet.     The 
moment  he  dropped  the  stolen  property  he  bolted  again 
under  the  sofa,  and  from  this  retreat  no   coaxing  could 
charm  him  for  several  hours  afterward.     Moreover,  when 
during  that  time  he  was  spoken  to  or  patted,  he  always 
turned  away  his  head  in  a  ludicrously  conscience-stricken 
manner. 

12.  I  have  seen  this  dog  escort  a  donkey  which  had 
baskets  on  its  back  filled  with  apples.      Although  the  dog 
did  not  know  that  he  was  being  observed  by  anybody,  he 
did  his  duty  with  the  utmost  faithfulness,  for  every  time 
the  donkey  turned  back  its  head  to  take  an  apple  out  of 
the  baskets,  the  dog  snapped  at  its  nose ;  and  such  was 
his  watchfulness  that,  although  his  companion  was  keenly 


288  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

desirous  of  tasting  some  of  the  fruit,  he  never  allowed  him 
to  get  a  single  apple  during  the  half  hour  they  were  left 
together.  I  have  also  seen  this  terrier  protecting  meat 
from  other  terriers  (his  sons),  which  lived  in  the  same 
house  with  him,  and  with  which  he  was  on  the  very  best  of 
terms.  More  curious  still,  I  have  seen  him  seize  my  wrist- 
bands while  they  were  being  worn  by  a  friend  to  whom  I 
temporarily  lent  them. 


PUSS   WITH   A    MISSION. 

1.  ONE  of  the  greatest  satisfactions  of  my  boyhood  con- 
sisted in  watching  the  warfare  carried  on  against  the  canine 
race  by  a  little  and  lissome  black  tabby  who  abode  in  the 
principal  store  in  the  village.     She  seemed  to  be  crazy  to 
avenge  the  wrongs  of  her  kind.     She  went  at  every  dog- 
skin on  four  legs  the  moment  she  saw  it ;  disparity  of  size 
or  numbers  was  a  matter  of  no  consideration. 

2.  On  one  occasion  a  cur  rolled  howling  out  of  the  store 
in  agony.    Two  other  canines,  who  had  heard  the  noise  of  the 
conflict,  arrived  simultaneously,  whereupon  the  black  paws 
struck  out  right,  left,  and  forward,  one,  two,  three,  with 
the  quickness  of  rapiers,  the  result  being  a  victorious  cat 
in  the  middle  and  three  yelping  fugitives  taking  three  dif- 
ferent roads  for  safety.     The  miller's  black  and  tan  terrier, 
having  been  once  pitched  bleeding  down  a  staircase,  con- 
ceived such  a  terror  of  this  fierce  avenger  of  centuries  of 
wrong  that,  when  his  master  came  to  the  store   for  gro- 
ceries, he  could  not  be  wheedled  nearer  than  the  black- 
smith's shop,  an  eighth  of  a  mile  away,  but  remained  there, 
barking  anxiously,  until  the  imprudent  human  should  re- 
turn. 

3.  As  for  the  postmaster's  dog — a  long,  lean,  and  frowzy 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  289 

spaniel,  much  given  to  pointing  and  setting  at  stray  bones 
and  swill-pails — scarcely  a  week  passed  that  he  was  not 
caught  in  the  store-keeper's  garden  and  soundly  scratched 
for  his  poachings.  Hurry-scurry  through  the  squash-vines 
and  green  corn  ;  dog  "  a  leetle  ahead,"  but  pussy  close  on 
his  bushy  tail ;  now  the  fugitive  reaches  the  board  fence 
and  squats  for  a  leap ;  in  that  moment  a  streak  of  furry 
lightning  mounts  his  back  and  draws  a  yelp  ;  away  now 
to  another  hopeful  corner,  and  another,  and  another  ;  a 
lucky  bound  at  last,  and  then  a  straight  race  for  life ;  of 
course  the  longest  legs  win  it. 

4.  This  feline  fencer  was  tremendous  on  eyes  ;  she 
lunged  right  at  them  and  held  on  like  a  tiger.  I  have  seen 
a  short-legged,  stout-bodied,  obstinate  cur  whirl  her  three 
times  around  his  head,  with  her  claws  fastened  in  the  skin 
of  his  stolid  physiognomy.  She  was  pitched  a  couple  of 
yards  at  last,  and  with  great  violence  ;  but  the  moment 
she  struck  earth  she  was  up  like  Antaeus,  and  at  him  again. 
Of  all  the  dogs  in  the  neighboring  country,  only  big  Pomp 
Wheeler  was  ever  known  to  make  Pussy  Lewis  turn  her 
tail.  Both  these  heroic  combatants  are  now  with  Hector 
and  Julius  Caesar.  Peace  to  their  manes,  such  as  they  had  ! 

J.   W.  De  Forest. 


CANINE  JUSTICE. 

1.  A  CASE  which  occurred  at  a  fashionable  watering- 
place  on  the  east  coast  of  Ireland  some  years  ago  exhibits 
the  remarkable  sagacity  displayed  by  a  dog  in  devising  and 
administering  justice.  The  jetty  which  stretched  along 
the  small  harbor  was  at  that  time  used  as  a  promenade  by 
the  elite  among  the  sojourners  on  the  coast,  where,  after 
the  heat  of  the  long  summer  days,  they  regaled  themselves 
with  the  fresh  evening  breezes  wafted  in  from  the  sea. 
13 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

2.  Among  the  frequenters  of  this  fashionable  resort  was 
a  gentleman  of  some  position,  who  was  the  owner  of  a  fine 
Newfoundland    dog    which    inherited    the    time-honored 
possessions  of  that  noble  breed — very  great  power  and 
facility  in  swimming ;  and,  at  the  period  of  the  evening 
when  the  jetty  was  most  crowded  with  promenaders,  his 
master  delighted  to  put  this  animal  through  a  series  of 
aquatic  performances  for  the  entertainment  of  the  assem- 
bled spectators.     Amusement  being  at  a  premium  on  the 
coast,  these  nightly  performances  grew  into  something  like 
an  "institution,"  and  the  brave  "Captain" — for  such  was 
his  name — speedily  became  a  universal  favorite  on  the  jetty. 

3.  It  happened,  however,  that  among  the  new  arrivals 
on  the  coast  there  came  a  certain  major  in  her  majesty's 
army,  accompanied  by  two  bull-dogs  of  unusual  size  and 
strength,  and  of  great  value  ;  but,   value   in  a  bull-dog 
being  inversely  proportionate  to  its  beauty,  the  appearance 
of  the  major  and  his  dogs  excited  no  very  enthusiastic 
pleasure  among  the  aesthetic  strollers  on  the  jetty.     On  the 
first  night  on  which  the  major  presented  himself  nothing 
unusual  occurred,  and  Captain  dived  and  swam  as  before. 
But  on  the  second  evening  the  brave  old  favorite  was  walk- 
ing quietly  behind  his  master  down  the  jetty,  when,  as 
they  were  passing  by  the  major  and  his  dogs,  one  of  these 
ugly  brutes  flew  at  Captain  and  caught  him  by  the  neck 
in  such  a  way  as  to  render  his  great  size  utterly  useless  for 
his  defense.     A  violent  struggle  ensued,  but  the  bull-dog 
came  off  the  victor,  for  he  stuck  to  his  foe  like  a  leech,  and 
could  only  be  forced  to  release  his  hold  by  the  insertion  of 
a  bar  of  iron  between  his  teeth. 

4.  The  indignation  of  the  by-standers  against  the  major 
was,  of  course,  very  great ;  and  its  fervor  was  not  a  little 
increased  when  they  saw  the  poor  Captain  wending  his 
way  homeward  bleeding,  and  bearing  all  the  marks  of  de- 
feat.    Some  two  or  three  evenings  after  this  occurrence, 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  291 

when  Captain  again  made  his  appearance  on  the  jetty,  he 
looked  quite  crestfallen,  bore  his  tail  between  his  legs,  and 
stuck  closely  to  the  heels  of  his  master.  That  evening  passed 
away  quietly,  and  the  next,  and  the  next,  and  so  on  for 
about  a  week — Captain  still  bearing  the  aspect  of  mourning. 

5.  But  one  evening  about  eight  or  ten  days  after  the 
above  encounter,  as  the  major  was  marching  in  his  usual 
pompous  manner  along  the  jetty,  accompanied  by  his  dogs, 
something  attracted  his  attention  in  the  water,  and,  walk- 
ing to  the  very  edge  of  the  jetty,  he  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  down  into  the  sea.     Scarcely  had  the  two  bull-dogs 
taken  up  their  stand  beside  their  master  when  Captain, 
seizing  the  opportunity  for  which  he  had  so  long  looked, 
rushed  at  his  former  conqueror,  and,  catching  him  by  the 
back  of  the  neck,  jumped  off  the  jetty,  with  his  foe  in  his 
mouth,  down  some  twenty  feet  or  more  into  the  sea.    Once 
in  the  water,  the  power  of  his  enemy  was  crippled,  while 
Captain  was  altogether  in  his  own  element ;  and,  easily 
overcoming  all  efforts  at  resistance,  he  succeeded  in  reso- 
lutely keeping  the  bull-dog's  head  under  water. 

6.  The  excitement  on  the  shore  was,  of  course,  intense. 
The  major  shouted,  and  called  out :  "  My  dog  !  my  beau- 
tiful dog  !     Will  no  one  save  him  ? "     But  no  one  seemed 
at  all  inclined  to  interfere,  or  to  risk  his  life  for  the  ugly 
dog.    At  length  the  major  called  out :  "  I'll  give  fifty  pounds 
to  any  one  who  will  save  my  dog  ! "  and  soon  afterward  a 
boat  which  lay  at  some  little  distance  pulled  up  to  the  res- 
cue.    Even  then,  however,  it  was  only  by  striking  Captain 
on  the  head  with  the  oars  that  he  could  be  forced  to  release 
his  victim,  which  was  taken  into  the  boat  quite  senseless 
from  exhaustion  and  suffocation,  and  was  with  difficulty 
brought  to  itself  again.    Captain,  on  the  other  hand,  swam 
in  triumph  to  the  shore,  amid  the  plaudits  of  the  specta- 
tors, who  shared,  in  sympathy  at  least,  his  well-earned  hon- 
ors Of  revenge.  ChamMs  Journal 


292  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


HELPING    A   FRIEND. 

1.  A  GEKTLEMAK  of  wealth  and  position  in  London 
had,  some  years  ago,  a  country-house  and  farm  about  sixty 
miles  from  the  metropolis.     At  this  country  residence  he 
kept  a  number  of  dogs,   and  among  them  a  very  large 
mastiff  and  a  Scotch  terrier ;  and,  at  the  close  of  one  of 
his  summer  residences  in  the  country,  he  resolved  to  bring 
this  terrier  with  him  to  London  for  the  winter  season. 
There  being  no  railway  to  that  particular  part  of  the  coun- 
try, the  dog  traveled  with  the  servants  in  a  post-carriage, 
and,  on  his  arrival  at  the  town-house,  was  brought  out  to 
the  stable,  where  a  large  Newfoundland  dog  was  kept  as  a 
watch-dog.     This  latter  individual  looked  with  anything 
but  pleasure  on  the  arrival  of  the  little  intruder  from  the 
country  ;  and,  consequently,  the  Scotch  terrier  had  not  been 
very  long  in  his  new  home  when  this  canine  master  of  the 
stable  attacked  him,  and,  in  the  language  of  human  beings, 
gave  him  a  sound  thrashing. 

2.  The  little  animal  could,  of  course,  never  hope  by 
himself  to  chastise  his  host  for  this  inhospitable  welcome, 
but  he  determined  that  by  some  agency  chastisement  should 
come.     Accordingly,  he  lay  very  quiet  that  night  in  a  re- 
mote corner  of  the  stable,  but  when  morning  had  fully 
shone  forth  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found.    Search  was  made 
for  him,  as  the  phrase  says,  high  and  low,  but  without 
success  ;  and  the  conclusion  reluctantly  arrived  at  was, 
that  he  had  been  stolen.     On  the  third  morning  after  his 
disappearance,  however,  he  again  showed  himself  in  Lon- 
don, but  this  time  not  alone ;  for,  to  the  amazement  of 
every  one,  he  entered  the  stable  attended  by  the  big  mastiff 
from  Kent. 

3.  This  great  brute  had  no  sooner  arrived  than  he  flew 
at  the  Newfoundland  dog,  who  had  so  badly  treated  his 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  293 

little  terrier  friend,  and  a  severe  contest  ensued,  which  the 
little  terrier  himself,  seated  at  a  short  distance,  viewed 
with  the  utmost  dignity  and  satisfaction.  The  result  of 
the  battle  was,  that  the  mastiff  came  off  the  conqueror, 
and  gave  his  opponent  a  tremendous  beating.  When  he 
had  quite  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  result,  this  great 
avenger  from  Kent  scarcely  waited  to  receive  the  recogni- 
tion of  his  master,  who  had  been  sent  for  immediately  on 
the  dog's  arrival,  but  at  once  marched  out  of  the  stable,  to 
the  door  of  which  the  little  terrier  accompanied  him,  and 
was  seen  no  more. 

4.  Some  few  days  afterward,  however,  the  gentleman 
received  a  letter  from  his  steward  in  the  country,  inform- 
ing him  of  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  terrier  there,  and 
his  as  sudden  disappearance  along  with  the  large  mastiff ; 
and  stating  that  the  latter  had  remained  away  three  or 
four  days,  during  which  they  had  searched  in  vain  for  him, 
but  had  just  then  returned  home  again.  It  then,  of  course, 
became  quite  clear  that  the  little  dog,  finding  himself 
unable  to  punish  the  town  bully,  had  thought  of  his  "big 
brother  "  in  the  country,  had  traveled  over  the  sixty  miles 
which  separated  them  in  order  to  gain  his  assistance,  and 
had  recounted  to  him  his  grievance  ;  it  was  plain,  also,  that 
the  mastiff  had  consented  to  come  and  avenge  his  old 
friend,  had  traveled  with  him  to  London,  and,  having  ful- 
filled his  promise,  had  returned  home,  leaving  the  little 
fellow  free  from  annoyance  in  the  future. 

Chambers^  Journal. 


PIERROT  THE    FAITHFUL 

1.  AND  now,  my  dear  readers,  let  me  tell  you  a  story 
of  another  friend  of  mine,  who  was  a  donkey,  but  not  a 
savant.  His  name  was  Pierrot. 


294  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

2.  The  frost  was  silvering  the  trees  of  the  Park  Monceau 
with  dull,,  white  powder,  like  the  head  of  a  marquis  of  the 
old  regime.     It  was  in  front  of  the  rotunda,   and  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning.     The  sun  hung  in  the  fog  like  a 
globe  of  fire,  but  cast  forth  no  beams.     The  wind  was  cruel 
to  the  poor  world.     People  walked  rapidly  along  the  Boule- 
vard de  Courcelles ;  women  veiled  their  faces,   and  men 
drew  their  heads  inside  their  collars.     It  was  a  day  when  a 
lover's  sigh  would  have  frozen  in  the  air. 

3.  I  was  hurrying  by  like  everybody  else.     A  female 
rag-picker,  pale  and  famished,  led  by  the  bridle  a  poor  little 
donkey,   which  seemed  a  hundred  years  old,  and  which 
dragged  a  poor  little  cart,  full  of  the  rubbish  of  the  street : 
rags,  broken  bottles,  torn  papers,  worn-out  skillets,  crusts 
of  bread — the  thousand  nothings  which  are  the  fortune  of 
the  rag-pickers.     The  woman  had  done  good  work  since 
midnight,  but  the  donkey  was  ready  to  drop.     He  stopped 
short,  as  if  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  no  farther. 
His  legs  trembled  and  threatened  a  fall.     He  hung  his  head 
with  resignation,  as  if  awaiting  the  stroke  of  death. 

4.  The  sight  touched  and  arrested  me.     A  man  would 
have  cursed  and  beaten  the  poor  beast  to  rouse  him ;  the 
woman  looked  at  him  with  an  eye  of  motherly  pity.     The 
donkey  returned  the  look,  as  if  saying,  "  You  see  it  is  all 
over.     I  have  done  my  best  for  you,  night  after  night,  be- 
cause I  saw  your  misery  was  greater  than  mine.     You  have 
treated  me  well,  sharing  your  bread  with  me.  and  your 
neighbors'  oats  when  you  could  get  them  ;  but  I  am  dying 
at  last." 

5.  The  woman  looked  at  him  and  said,  gently,  "  Come, 
come,  dear  Pierrot,  do  not  leave  me  here."     She  lightened 
the  load  by  taking  out  a  basket  of  broken  bottles.    "  Come, 
now,"  she  said,  as  if  talking  to  a  child.     "You  can  get 
along  nicely  now."     She  put  her  shoulder  to  the  wheel, 
but  the  donkey  did  not  move.     He  knew  that  he  had  not 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS. 


295 


strength  to  walk  to  St.  Ouen,  his  wretched  home.  She 
still  coaxed  him.  "How  do  you  think  we  can  get  along 
this  way,  Pierrot  ?  To  be  sure,  I  could  drag  the  cart. 
But  I  can't  put  you  in  it,  and  you  would  be  ashamed  to  be 


Pierrot  the  Faithful. 

dragged  after  it."     The  donkey  raised  his  ears,  but  no 
move. 

6.  I  was  going  to  speak  to  her,  when  she  ran  into  the 
nearest  wine-shop.  The  donkey  followed  her  with  anxious 
eyes  ;  he  seemed  fearful  that  he  would  die  without  his  mis- 


296  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

tress.  He  was  so  little  you  would  have  taken  him  at  a  dis- 
tance for  a  Pyrenean  dog.  He  had  grown  gray  in  the 
harness.  A  few  tufts  of  gray  hair  remained  here  and  there 
on  his  emaciated  body.  He  looked  like  a  mountain  burned 
bare  in  many  places.  His  resigned  air  showed  a  mind  free 
from  worldly  vanities.  He  was  far  past  the  age  when  one 
strikes  attitudes.  He  was  almost  transparent  in  his  lean- 
ness. But  his  face  was  all  the  more  expressive.  It  had 
something  almost  human  in  its  intelligence  and  goodness. 
Why  had  he  been  condemned  to  such  suffering  ?  Was  it 
the  expiation  of  a  former  life  passed  in  luxurious  orgies  ? 

7.  The  rag-picker  soon  returned,  bringing  a  piece  of 
bread  and  a  lump  of  sugar.    The  donkey  turned  and  showed 
his  teeth,  like  old  piano-keys.     But,  although  it  was  his 
breakfast-time,  he  had  no  more  strength  in  his  mouth  than 
in  his  legs.     She  gave  him  the  sugar.     He  took  it  as  if  to 
oblige  her,  but  dropped  it  again,  and  the  same  with  the 
bread. 

8.  "  Ah  !  what  shall  I  do  ?"  said  the  rag-picker.     She 
thought  no  more  of  her  cart.     She  was  full  of  anxiety  for 
her  friend   Pierrot.     "Pierrot!"   she  cried  again.     Two 
great  tears  came  to  her  eyes.     She  took  his  head  in  her 
arms  and  kissed  him  like  a  child.     The  caress  did  what 
nothing  else  could  do.     The  donkey  roused  himself,  and 
brayed  as  in  his  best  days.     I  feared  it  was  only  his  swan- 
song.     I  approached,  and  said  to  the  woman  :  "You  seem 
to  be  in  trouble." 

9.  "Oh  !"  she  said,  crying,  "if  you  knew  how  I  love 
this  beast.     I  saved  him  from  the  butchers  four  years  ago. 
In  those  days  I  had  only  a  hod.     I  have  raised  seven  chil- 
dren with  my  hook.     The  father  is  gone  and  one  other, 
and  my  eldest  daughter  was  taken  a  fortnight  ago.     My 
worst  grief  was  that  I  had  to  take  one  to  the  Foundlings. 
I  had  eleven  in  all ;  four  of  them  died.     It's  no  use  ;  you 
can't  take  good  care  of  them  when  you  work  in  the  streets 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  297 

all  night.  This  little  donkey  has  been  my  only  consola- 
tion. He  was  better  company  than  my  husband.  He 
never  got  drunk,  and  never  beat  me ;  and  I  never  beat 
him.  Did  I,  Pierrot?" 

10.  The  poor  little  beast  seemed  to  share  in  the  conver- 
sation.    He  half  raised  his  ears  and  assented.     One  of  my 
friends  passed  by,  and  asked  me  what  I  was  doing.     "  I 
am  making  a  new  friend." — "He  may  be  witty,  but  he  is 
not  handsome." — "I  find  him  admirable,  and  I  would  like 
to  see  you  in  his  place.     He  has  been  out  since  midnight. 
Here,  you  want  to  help  me  in  a  work  of  charity  ?" — "  With 
all  my  heart." — "Very  well;  let  us  buy  this  donkey  and 
put  him  on  the  retired  list.     This  good  woman  will  take 
care  of  him." 

11.  The  rag-picker  looked  at  us  severely,  fearing  we 
were  laughing  at  her.     But  when  she  saw  the  shine  of  the 
louis-d'or  she  smiled.     "How  much  did  Pierrot  cost  ?" — 
"Ten  francs." — "Well,  you  go  back  to  the  abattoir  and 
buy  another  donkey,  and  take  care  of  this  one."    I  gave  my 
card  to  the  woman,  and  said  good-by  to  her  and  the  donkey. 
The  miracle  was  complete.    The  donkey  started  off  in  high 
spirits,  the  woman  pushing  the  cart  from  behind. 

12.  That  evening  the  woman  came  to  me  in  tears.     I 
understood  at  once.     "  Oh  !  sir,  he  is  gone." — "  Poor  Pier- 
rot !" — "Yes,  sir,  we  got  to  St.  Ouen  one  way  or  another  ; 
but  when  he  came  in  sight  of  our  hut  he  fell  on  his  knees. 
I  tried  to  raise  him,  but  this  time  it  was  all  over.     My 
children  came  running  and  crying.     They  talked  to  him 
and  kissed  him.     He  looked  at  them  so  sadly  as  to  break 
our  hearts.     I  tell  you  there  are  lots  of  people  in  the  world 
not  worth  half  so  much  as  poor  Pierrot.     Think  of  it :  he 
wanted  to  die  at  home  after  finishing  his  day's  work." 
Like  a  soldier  who  dies  after  firing  his  last  cartridge. 

13.  The  rag-picker  opened  her  hand,  and  I  saw  the 
money  I  had  given  her  in  the  morning.     "  Here  is  your 


298  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

hundred  francs,  sir."  I  do  not  know  whether  I  most  ad- 
mired her  or  the  donkey — the  donkey  who  did  his  duty  to 
death,  or  the  woman  more  delicate  than  our  charity. 

Arsene  Houssaye. 


EMOTIONAL   EXPRESSION. 

1.  THE  first  principle  upon  which  the  emotional  expres- 
sion of  animals  depends  is,  that  the  muscular  movement 
which  gives  the  expression  is  serviceable  to  the  animal  at 
the  time  it  is  made.     Among  the  carnivora,  some  crouch  to 
remain  concealed  until  the  game  is  within  reach  of  their 
spring  ;  others  crouch  to  get  out  of  sight  altogether  ;  some 
boldly  advance  to  the  attack,  every  muscle  and  nerve  con- 
nected with  their  organs  of  attack  in  extreme  tension  ;  and 
others  await  the  attack,  the  nerves  and  muscles  connected 
with  the  organs  of  defense  in  equal  tension.     The  various 
attitudes  assumed  are  necessary  for  the  best  performance 
of  the  act  which  is  to  succeed,  and  the  attitude  becomes 
the  expression  of  the  mood  of  the  animal  at  the  time. 

2.  The  second  principle  of  expression  is  that  of  antithe- 
sis.     Certain  states  of  mind  lead  to  certain  movements 
which  are  of  service.     When  a  directly  opposite  state  of 
mind  is  induced,  there  is  a  strong  and  involuntary  tendency 
to  make  movements  of  a  directly  opposite  nature,  though 
these  have  never  been  of  any  service.    We  can  best  illustrate 
these  principles  by  referring  to  the  actions  of  the  dog  and 
cat,  which  can  be  observed  by  all. 

3.  When  a  dog  approaches  a  strange  dog  or  man  in  a 
hostile  frame  of  mind,  he  walks  upright  and  very  stiffly ; 
his  head  is  slightly  raised,  or  not  much  lowered ;  the  tail 
is  held  erect  and  quite  rigid ;  the  hairs  bristle,  especially 
along  the  neck  and  back  ;  the  pricked  ears  are  directed  for- 
ward, and  the  eyes  have  a  fixed  stare.     These  actions  fol- 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  299 

low  from  the  dog's  intention  to  attack  his  enemy,  and  are 
thus  intelligible.  As  he  prepares  to  spring  upon  his  ene- 
my he  utters  a  savage  growl,  the  canine  teeth  are  uncov- 
ered, and  the  ears  are  pressed  close  backward  on  the  head. 

4.  Let  us  now  suppose  that  the  dog  suddenly  discovers 
that  the  man  whom  he  is  approaching  is  not  a  stran- 
ger, but  his  master  ;  and  let  it  be  observed  how  completely 
and  instantaneously  his  whole  bearing  is  reversed.  In- 


A  Fierce  Dog. 

stead  of  walking  upright,  the  body  sinks  downward,  or 
even  crouches,  and  is  thrown  into  flexuous  movements ; 
his  tail,  instead  of  being  held  stiff  and  upright,  is  low- 
ered and  wagged  from  side  to  side ;  his  hair  instantly  be- 
comes smooth;  his  ears  are  depressed  and  drawn  back- 
ward, but  not  closely  to  the  head :  and  his  lips  hang  loosely. 
From  the  drawing  back  of  the  ears,  the  eyelids  become 
elongated,  and  the  eyes  no  longer  appear  round  and  star- 
ing. It  should  be  added  that  the  animal  is  at  such  times 


300 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


in  an  excited  condition  of  joy,  and  the  nerve-force  will 
be  generated  in  excess,  which  naturally  leads  to  actions  of 
some  kind. 

5.  Not  one  of  the  above  movements,  so  clearly  expressive 
of  affection,  is  of  the  least  service  to  the  animal.  They 
are  explicable,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  solely  from  being  in  com- 
plete opposition  or  antithesis  to  the  attitude  and  movements 
which,  from  intelligible  causes,  are  assumed  when  a  dog  in- 
tends to  fight,  and  which,  consequently,  are  expressive  of 


An  Affectionate  Dog. 

anger.  It  is  not  a  little  difficult  to  represent  by  pictures 
affection  in  a  dog  while  caressing  its  master,  for  the  very 
essence  of  the  expression  lies  in  the  wagging  of  the  tail  and 
in  the  continuous  flexuous  movements  of  the  body. 

6.  I  will  here  give  one  instance  of  this  antithesis  in  ex- 
pression. I  formerly  possessed  a  large  dog,  who,  like  every 
other  dog,  was  much  pleased  to  go  out  walking.  He 
showed  his  pleasure  by  trotting  gravely  before  me  with  high 
steps,  head  much  raised,  moderately  erected  ears,  and  a 
tail  carried  aloft,  but  not  stiffly.  Not  far  from  my  house  a 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  301 

path  branches  off  to  the  right,  leading  to  the  hot-house 
which  I  used  often  to  visit  for  a  few  moments  to  look  at  my 
experimental  plants.  This  was  always  a  great  disappoint- 
ment to  the  dog,  as  he  did  not  know  whether  I  would  con- 
tinue my  walk;  and  the  instantaneous  and  complete  change 
of  expression  which  came  over  him  as  soon  as  my  body 
swerved  in  the  least  toward  the  path — and  I  sometimes 
tried  this  as  an  experiment — was  laughable. 

7.  His  look  of  dejection  was  known  to  every  member 
of  the  family,  and  was  called  his  hot-house  face.    This  con- 
sisted in  the  head  drooping  much,  the  whole  body  sinking 
a  little  and  remaining  motionless,  the  ears  and  tail  fall- 
ing suddenly  down  ;  but  the  tail  was  by  no  means  wagged. 
With  the  falling  of  his  ears  and  of  his  great  chaps,  the  eyes 
became  much  changed  in  appearance,  and  I  fancied  they 
looked  less  bright.     His  aspect  was  that  of  piteous,  hope- 
less dejection  ;  and  it  was  the  more  laughable  as  the  cause 
was  so  slight.    Every  detail  in  his  attitude  was  in  complete 
opposition  to  his  former  joyful  yet  dignified  bearing,  and 
I  can  explain  it  in  no  other  way  except  through  this  prin- 
ciple of  antithesis. 

8.  We  will  now  turn  to  the  cat.     When  this  animal  is 
threatened  by  a  dog,  it  arches  its  back  in  a  surprising  man- 
ner, erects  its  hair,  opens  its  mouth  and  spits.     We  are  not 
here  concerned  with  this  well-known  attitude,  expressive 
of  terror  and  anger  combined  ;  we  wish   to  observe  that 
which  expresses  anger  alone.     This  is  riot  often  seen,  but 
may  be  observed  when  two  cats  are  fighting  ;  and  I  have 
seen  it  well  exhibited  by  a  savage  cat  when  plagued  by  a 
boy.     The  attitude  is  almost  exactly  the  same  as  that  of 
the  tiger  disturbed  and  growling  over  his  food,  which  every 
one  must  have  beheld  in  menageries. 

9.  The  animal  assumes  a  crouching  position,  with  the 
body  extended  ;   and  the  whole  tail,  or  the  tip  alone,  is 
lashed  or  curled  from  side  to  side.     The  hair  is  not  in  the 


302 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


least  erect.  Thus  far,  the  attitude  and  movements  are 
nearly  the  same  as  when  the  animal  is  prepared  to  spring 
on  its  prey,  and  when,  no  doubt,  it  feels  savage.  But 
when  preparing  to  fight  there  is  this  difference  :  the  ears 
are  closely  pressed  backward  ;  the  mouth  is  partially  opened, 
showing  the  teeth  ;  the  forefeet  are  occasionally  struck  out 
with  protruded  claws ;  and  the  animal  occasionally  utters  a 
fierce  growl.  These  actions  naturally  express  the  intent  of 
attacking  the  enemy. 


IS" 

A  Cat,  Savage,  and  ready  to  Fight. 

10.  Let  us  now  look  at  a"  cat  in  a  directly  opposite 
frame  of  mind,  while  feeling  affectionate  and  caressing  her 
master,  and  mark  how  opposite  her  attitude  is  in  every 
respect.  She  now  stands  upright,  with  her  back  slightly 
arched,  which  makes  her  hair  appear  rather  rough,  but  it 
does  not  bristle  ;  her  tail,  instead  of  being  extended  and 
lashed  from  side  to  side,  is  held  quite  stiff,  and  perpendicu- 
larly upward  ;  her  ears  are  erect  and  pointed  ;  her  mouth 
is  closed  ;  and  she  rubs  against  her  master  with  a  purr  in- 
stead of  a  growl. 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS. 


303 


11.  Let  it  further  be  observed  how  widely  different 
is  the  whole  bearing  of  an  affectionate  cat  from  that  of 
a  dog  when,  with  his  body  crouching  and  flexuous,  and 
ears  depressed,  he  caresses  his  master.  This  contrast  in 

the  attitudes  of  these 
two  carnivorous  ani- 
mals, under  the  same 
pleased  and  affection- 
ate frame  of  mind, 
can  be  explained,  as 
it  appears  to  me,  sole- 
ly by  their  move- 
ments standing  in 
complete  antithesis 
to  those  which  are 
naturally  assumed 
when  these  animals 
feel  savage  and  are 
prepared  either  to 
fight  or  to  seize  their 
prey. 

12.  In  these  cases 
of  the  cat  and  the 

dog  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  gestures,  both 
of  hostility  and  affection,  are  innate  or  inherited  ;  for  they 
are  almost  identically  the  same  in  the  different  races  of 
the  species,  and  in  all  the  individuals  of  the  same  race  both 

young  and  old.  Charles  Darwin. 


An  Affectionate  Cat. 


TO  FLUSH,  MY  DOG. 


1.  LOVING  friend,  the  gift  of  one 
Who  her  own  true  faith  hath  run 


304  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

Through  thy  lower  nature  ;  * 
Be  my  benediction  said 
With  my  hand  upon  thy  head, 

Gentle  fellow-creature  ! 

2.  Underneath  my  stroking  hand, 
Startled  eyes  of  hazel  bland, 

Kindling,  growing  larger, 
Up  thou  leapest  with  a  spring, 
Full  of  prank  and  curveting, 

Leaping  like  a  charger. 

3.  Leap  !  thy  broad  tail  waves  a  light ; 
Leap  !  thy  slender  feet  are  bright, 

Canopied  in  fringes. 
Leap  I  those  tasseled  ears  of  thine 
Flicker  strangely,  fair  and  fine, 

Down  their  golden  inches. 

4.  Yes,  my  pretty,  sportive  friend, 
Little  is  't  to  such  an  end 

That  I  praise  thy  rareness  ! 
Other  dogs  may  be  thy  peers, 
Haply  in  those  drooping  ears 

And  this  glossy  fairness. 

5.  But  of  thee  it  shall  be  said, 
This  dog  watched  beside  a  bed 

Day  and  night  un weary — 
Watched  within  a  curtained  room, 
Where  no  sunbeam  broke  the  gloom 

Round  the  sick  and  dreary. 

6.  Other  dogs  in  thymy  dew 

Tracked  the  hares,  and  followed  through 

*  This  dog  was  the  gift  of  my  dear  and  admired  friend,  Miss  Mitford. 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED   COMPANIONS.  305 

Sunny  moor  or  meadow  ; 
This  dog  only  crept  and  crept, 
Next  a  languid  cheek  that  slept, 

Sharing  in  the  shadow. 

7.  Other  dogs  of  loyal  cheer 
Bounded  at  the  whistle  clear, 

Up  the  woodside  hieing  ; 
This  dog  only  watched,  in  reach 
Of  a  faintly  uttered  speech, 

Or  a  louder  sighing. 

8.  And  if  one  or  two  quick  tears 
Dropped  upon  his  glossy  ears, 

Or  a  sigh  came  double — 
Up  he  sprang  in  eager  haste, 
Fawning,  fondling,  breathing  fast, 

In  a  tender  trouble. 

9.  And  this  dog  was  satisfied 

If  a  pale,  thin  hand  would  glide 

Down  his  dewlaps  sloping, 
Which  he  pushed  his  nose  within, 
After  platforming  his  chin 

On  the  palm  left  open. 

10.  This  dog,  if  a  friendly  voice 
Called  him  now  to  blither  choice 

Than  such  a  chamber  keeping, 
"  Come  out,"  praying  from  the  door, 
Presseth  backward  as  before, 

Up  against  me  leaping. 

11.  Therefore  to  this  dog  will  I, 
Tenderly,  not  scornfully, 

Render  praise  and  favor  : 
With  my  hand  upon  his  head, 
Is  my  benediction  said, 

Therefore,  and  for  ever.  Mrs.  Browning. 


PART  XII. 
OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS. 

HOW    RATS    MANAGE. 

1.  IT  is  easy  to  show  that  the  rat  is  one  of  the  wisest  of 
animals.     Just  think  how  closely  he  sticks  to  man,  though 
man  tries  day  and  night  to  get  rid  of  him.     Eats  always 
stay  with  us,  never  are  stained,  always  look  sleek  and  com- 
fortable, and  always  seem  to  feel  more  at  home  in  our 
houses  than  we  ourselves  feel.     What  seems  more  hopeless 
than  a  rat  on  board  a  ship,  with  the  ocean  all  around  him, 
and  not  a  friend  to  protect  him,  and  every  human  being  in 
the  vessel  ready  to  kill  him  if  he  shows  his  head  ?    And 
yet  rats  thrive  on  board  ship  better  than  men  do,  and  they 
increase  so  fast  that,  when  the  vessel  reaches  port,  it  may 
have  to  be  deserted  for  a  time  by  all  on  board  in  order  to 
drive  out  the  rats  by  smoke  or  steam. 

2.  On  the  return  of  the  English  man-of-war  Valiant 
from  Havana,  in  1766,  the  rats  were  found  to  have  so  in- 
creased that  they  ate  a  hundred  pounds  of  biscuit  in  a  day  ; 
so  the  ship  was  smoked  out,  and  for  days  together  they 
collected    daily   six   basketfuls    of   rats.      In   the    Arctic 
regions,  where  Dr.  Kane  and  his  crew  could  hardly  keep 
themselves  alive,  the  rats  constantly  multiplied,  and  the 
dogs  were  afraid  to  go  into  the  hold  of  the  vessel.     The 
crew  stayed  on  deck  one  terribly  cold  night  and  tried  to 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  307 

smoke  out  the  rats,  but  in  vain.  Then  Dr.  Hayes  burned 
charcoal  till  he  nearly  set  the  ship  on  fire,  but  it  did  very 
little  good,  and  at  last  the  men  got  used  to  sleeping  with 
rats  among  their  blankets,  and  Dr.  Kane  made  rat-soup  for 
dinner. 

3.  But  on  land,  when  rats  find  themselves  in  danger, 
a  whole  colony  of  them  will  sometimes  remove  from  a  build- 
ing, of  their  own  accord,  and  set  up  housekeeping  in  some 
safer  place.     Mr.  Buckland  tells  a  story  of  some  men  who 
had  made  great  preparations  for  destroying  all  the  rats  in  a 

.certain  barn  in  England.  When  the  morning  came  the 
men  entered  the  barn  with  dogs  and  ferrets  and  big  sticks, 
but  not  a  rat  could  they  find.  The  ferrets  ran  into  the 
holes,  the  dogs  got  under  the  straw,  and  the  men  poked 
with  their  sticks,  but  not  a  rat  could  they  find.  After- 
ward a  laborer  came  and  said  that  he  had  seen  a  whole 
regiment  of  rats,  on  that  very  morning,  as  they  marched 
away  from  that  barn  to  another. 

4.  One  reason  why  rats  are  able  to  live  and  thrive  in 
spite  of  everything  is  that  they  show  such  sagacity  in  ob- 
taining food.     A  lady  of  my  acquaintance  found  that  the 
eggs  in  her  kitchen  disappeared  very  fast,  and  she  and  her 
husband,  after  patient  watching,  saw  the  rats  at  work  upon 
them.     She  saw  one  rat  lie  upon  its  back  and  take  an  egg 
or  two  between  its  paws,  with   the  help  of  the  others. 
Thus  it  became  a  sort  of  live  sled,  or  wheelbarrow  without 
wheels  ;  and  another  rat,  taking  in  its  mouth  the  tail  of  the 
first  one,  dragged  the  load  of  eggs  to  their  hole.     Other 
observers  have  seen  parties  of  rats  pushing  eggs  up  or  down 
stairs,  two  being  busy  with  each  egg  ;  sometimes  they  have 
been  seen  formed  in  a  line,  and  passing  along  the  eggs  from 
one  to  another,  as  firemen  pass  buckets  of  water  at  a  fire. 
This  shows  the  same  intelligence  that  beavers  show  when 
they  unite  in  their  engineering  work. 

5.  The  same  lady  told  me  that  she  had  discovered  how 


308  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  rats  drink  sweet-oil.  Her  husband  was  an  apothecary, 
and  had  a  number  of  bottles  of  sweet-oil,  some  of  which 
were  fonnd  nearly  empty.  They  watched,  and  saw  two 
rats  at  work  upon  the  bottle.  They  pulled  out  the  cork, 
or  nibbled  through  it,  and  then  one  of  them  let  his  tail 
down  into  the  bottle,  and,  soon  drawing  it  out,  let  his  com- 
rade lick  it.  Then  the  comrade  took  his  turn,  and  dipped 
in  his  tail,  and  the  first  rat  licked  that,  and  so  they  were 
as  happy  as  you  may  see  poor  little  children  on  wharves 
around  a  cask  of  molasses.  The  same  thing  has  been  de- 
scribed in  the  books,  but  it  seems  very  hard  to  believe. 
Naturalists  say  that  these  stories  "lack  confirmation"; 
but  they  would  hardly  be  repeated  so  often  if  they  were 
not  true,  and  I  believe  my  old  friend's  account,  at  any  rate. 

6.  There  is  a  story  of  a  good  woman  in  England  who 
heard  for  two  nights  a  terrible  hubbub  in  her  cellar,  so  that 
she  collected  her  neighbors  to  defend  her.     On  the  third 
night  her  maid  found  that  a  barrel  of  sweet  wine  had  been 
entirely  emptied  by  rats.     They  had  first  gnawed  through 
the  bung,  to  drink  the  wine,  and  then,  as  it  sunk  lower  and 
lower,  they  had  eaten  away  the  whole  side  of  the  barrel. 
The  servant-girls  declared  that  "  the  ghost  had  taken  the 
wine  "  ;  but,  if  so,  the  ghost's  teeth  made  marks  exactly  like 
rats'  teeth ;  and  Mr.  Buckland  still  keeps  the  remains  of 
the  cask  to  show  what  these  little  animals  can  do. 

7.  Eats  certainly  use  their  tails  a  great  deal,  whether 
they  dip  them  into  bottles  or  not.     If  you  observe  a  rat 
climbing,  or  springing,  or  rising  on  his  hind  legs,  you  will 
see  that  his  tail  helps  him  very  much.     It  is  thick  and 
strong,  and  the  naturalist  Cuvier  says  that  it  has  as  many 
muscles  as  the  human  hand.     It  seems  very  surprising  that 
rats  should  be  so  clean  when  they  live  on  such  dirty  food 
and  in  such  dirty  places.     Oats  seem  to  lose  some  of  their 
instinct  of  cleanliness  when  they  have  to  live  as  rats  live  ; 
but  rats  clean  themselves  after  eating  as  carefully  as  the 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  309 

most  domestic  cats ;  and  no  fleas  or  other  insects  are  ever 
found  upon  them.  Our  rats  are  commonly  of  the  gray 
species,  which  has  gradually  driven  out  the  black  rat. 

8.  But. sometimes  white  rats  are  kept  as  pets,  and  some- 
times a  variety  of  colors  may  be  seen  among  wild  rats.     A 
lady  of  my  acquaintance  once  lived  in  a  house  in  Boston, 
with  a  stable  behind  it,  from  which  a  great  many  large 
rats  used  to  come  into  the  kitchen  and  coal-shed.     They 
were  so  familiar  that  the  cook  once  declared  that  she  heard 
a  knock  at  the  kitchen  door,  and,  on  opening  it,  saw  a  large 
rat  standing  on  his  hind  legs  and  looking  at  her,  "so  im- 
pudent," as  she  said.     Be  that  as  it  may,  this  lady  was 
once  looking  out  into  the  yard  and  saw  several  rats  drink- 
ing  by  the  pump.      In  their  midst  was  lying   (as  she 
thought)  a  beautiful  piece  of  reddish  fur.     As  she  won- 
dered how  it  came  there,  it  suddenly  took  to  its  heels  and 
ran  away  into  the  stable  with  the  other  rats,  and  she  never 
saw  it  again. 

9.  Rats  are  not  easy  to  tame,  and  yet  they  have  some- 
times made  excellent  pets.     The  driver  of  a  London  om- 
nibus once  found  in  his  hay-loft  a  young  rat  of  a  piebald 
color,  which  he  brought  home  for  his  children  to  play 
with.     The  little  thing  soon  grew  tame,  and  was  a  great 
favorite,  the   children  naming  him   "Ikey,"  after  their 
eldest  brother.     He  would  lie  before  the  fire  at  full  length, 
or  run  round  and  round  after  his  own  tail  like  a  cat.     His 
master  often  carried  him  in  his  pocket,  or  put  him  in  his 
dinner-basket  to  guard  the  dinner.    Ikey  was  always  honest 
except  when  there  was  plum-pudding  in  the  basket,  and 
then  he  had   not   moral   courage  enough   to  resist   nib- 
bling at  the  plums.    But  if  others  touched  the  basket,  Ikey 
flew  at  them  and  drove  them  away.     In  return,  his  master 
taught  him  to  sit  on  his  hind  legs  and  beg,  to  jump  through 
a  hoop,  to  drag  a  little  cart,  and  to  carry  money  in  his 

mouth.  T.  W.  Higginson. 


310  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


THE   CHIPMUNK   AT    HOME. 

1.  WITH  the  first  sweet  blossoms  of  the-  Epigcea,  and 
long  before  the  foremost  warbler  greets  his  old-time  home 
with  gleesome  songs,  our  little  chipmunk  has  roused  him- 
self from  his  long  winter's  nap,   and,  sniffing  the  south 
wind  as  it  whirls  the  dead  leaves  about,  scampers  to  and 
fro  while  the  sun  shines,  and  dives  into  his  winter  quarters, 
it  may  be  for  a  whole  week,  if  the  north  wind  whispers  to 
the  fcall  beech-trees.     But  the  blustering  days  of  March 
give  way  in  due  time  to  showery  April,  and  then,  with 
more  courage,  "chip"  faces  the  music  of  the  winds,  blow 
they  from  whatever  quarter,  and,  darting  along  the  top 
rail  of  our  zigzag  fences,  chatters,  scolds,  and  calls  at  and 
to  his  equally  noisy  companions.     They  know  full  well 
that  they  have  the  summer  before  them,  and,  while  de- 
termined to  enjoy  it,  begin  early  and  in  good  earnest  to 
make   arrangements  for  its  coming  duties.     We  watched 
several  pairs  of  them  from  March  to  November,  during  the 
last  year  (1874),  and  our  sketch  is  based  on  numerous  notes 
made  at  different  times. 

2.  Until  the  weather  became  fairly  settled,  and  really 
spring-like  in  temperature,  these  little  chipmunks  did  not 
frequently  show  themselves,  and  then  only  in  the  middle 
of  the  day.     The  occurrence  of  a  cold  storm  they  appeared 
to  foretell  by  twenty-four  hours,  and  resumed  their  hiber- 
nating sleep,  becoming  lethargic,  and  very  difficult  to  re- 
store to  consciousness.     A  pair  that  we  dug  out  in  March, 
having  two  days  before  re-entered  their  winter  quarters  and 
become  again  torpid,  were  apparently  lifeless  when  first 
taken  up  in  the  hands,  and  not  until  after  several  hours' 
warming  did  they  become  lively  and  altogether  themselves 
again.     This  seemed  to  us  the  more  curious,  in  that  they 
can  respond  to  a  favorable  change  in  the  weather  in  a  short 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS. 


311 


time,  even  when  the  thermometric  change  is  really  but  a 
few  degrees. 

3.  On  the  3d  of  May  a  pair  made  their  appearance  in 
the  yard'  of  our  residence,  and  took  up  their  abode  in  a 


American  Chipmunk. 

stone  wall  having  a  southern  outlook,  and  on  the  edge  of 
a  steep  descent  of  seventy  feet,  which  hill-side  is  thickly 
wooded,  and  harbors  scores  of  these  little  chipmunks,  or 


312  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

"ground-squirrels,"  as  they  are  more  commonly  called. 
From  the  fact  of  these  little  animals  living  wholly  under- 
ground, and  it  being  stated  that  their  underground  homes 
were  quite  elaborate  in  structure,  we  determined  to  wait 
until  the  pair  in  our  yard  had  completed  their  excavations 
in  and  under  the  stone  wall  and  arranged  their  nest,  which 
time  we  judged  by  their  actions,  and  then  seeking  out  the 
home  of  another  couple,  which  was  readily  accessible,  we 
undertook  to  expose  the  nest  and  its  approaches.  This  we 
did  on  May  29th. 

4.  The  nest  contained  five  young,  not  more  than  forty- 
eight  hours  old.     The  two  entrances  were  at  the  foot  of 
a  large  beech-tree  standing  about  six  feet  from  the  brow  of 
the  hill.     The  grass  alone  grew  about  the  tree,   and  the 
holes  on  the  surface  of  the  ground  were  very  conspicuous. 
No  attempt  at  concealment  had  been  made ;  but  this  was 
evidently  because  there  is  here  almost  a  total  absence  of 
their  particular  enemies.     Animals  soon  learn  this  fact, 
and  their  homes  and  habits  vary  with   the  knowledge. 
From  the  right-hand  entrance  to  the  nest  was  an  inter- 
vening space  of  nine  feet  traversed  by  a  cylindrical  passage 
somewhat  serpentine  in  its  course,  which  made  the  distance 
really  about  twelve  feet.     The  nest  itself  was  oval,  about 
twenty  inches  in  length  and  ten  inches  in  height.     It  was 
lined  with  very  fine  grass.     We  had  hoped  to  find  several 
passages  leading  from  the  nest,  and  two  or  more  "extra" 
nests,  or  magazines  for  storing  away  food,  but  no  trace  of 
them  was  to  be  found. 

5.  On  the  23d  of  June  six  young  chipmunks  made 
their  appearance  about  the  stone  wall  in  the  yard,  and  to 
these,  with  their  parents,  we  will  now  confine  our  atten- 
tion.    It  puzzles  us  now,  when  we  think  of  it,  to  imagine 
when  this  company  of  eight  chipmunks   took  any  rest. 
Very  frequently  during  the  summer  we  were  astir  at  sun- 
rise,  but  the   chipmunks   were   already  on  the  go,   and 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  313 

throughout  July  they  appeared  to  do  little  but  play,  which 
sporting,  by  the  way,  is  very  animated.  They  seem  to  be 
playing  at  what  children  know  as  "tag,"  i.  e.,  they  chase 
each  other  to  and  fro,  and  try  not  simply  to  touch,  we 
should  judge,  but  to  bite  each  other's  tail. 

6.  The  way  in  which  they  scamper  along  the  tapering 
points  of  a  paling  fence  is  simply  astonishing ;  but  how- 
ever mad  may  be  their  galloping,  let  a  hawk  come  near, 
and  in  a  moment  every  one  is  motionless.     If  on  a  fence, 
they  simply  squat  wherever  they  may  be  at  the  time,  and 
trust  to  remaining  unnoticed.     If  on  the  ground,  and  not 
too  far  from  their  burrows,  which  is  not  often  the  case, 
they  will  dart  to  their  nests  with  an  incredible  celerity, 
going,  we  believe,  the  whole  length  of  their  passage-way  to 
the  nest,  turning  about,  and  retracing  their  steps  to  the 
entrance,  from  which  they  will  peer  out,  and,  when  the 
danger  is  over,  reappear  and  recommence  their  sports. 

7.  About  August  loth  they  commenced  to  work  in  real 
earnest.     Instead  of  playful,  careless  creatures,  that  lived 
from  hand  to  mouth,  they  became  very  sober  and  busy  in- 
deed.    Instead  of  keeping  comparatively  near  home,  they 
wandered  to  quite  a  distance,  for  them,  and,  filling  both 
cheek-pouches  full  of  corn,  chincapins  (dwarf  chestnuts), 
and  small  acorns,  home  they  would  hurry,  looking,  in  the 
face,  like  children  with  the  mumps.     This  storing  away 
of  food  was  continued  until  the  first  heavy  white  frosts, 
when  the  chipmunks,  as  a  member  of  Congress  once  said, 
went  "into  a  state  of  retiracy." 

8.  The  food  gathered,  we  believe,  is  consumed  in  part 
on  their  going  into  winter  quarters,  they  spending  some 
time  in  their  retreats  before  commencing  their  hibernating 
sleep.     This  belief,  on  our  part,  is  based  on  the  result  of 
digging  out  a  third  nest  on  the  3d  of  November.     The  last 
time  we  noted  down  seeing  a  chipmunk  belonging  to  a  cer- 
tain nest  was  October  22d.     Twelve  days  after  we  very 

14 


314  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

carefully  closed  the  three  passages  that  led  to  the  nest  and 
dug  down.  We  found  four  chipmunks  very  cozily  fixed 
for  winter,  in  a  roomy  nest,  and  all  of  them  thoroughly 
wide  awake. 

9.  Their  store  of  provisions  was  wholly  chestnuts  and 
acorns,  and  the  shells  of  these  nuts  were  all  pushed  into 
one  of  the  passages,  so  that  there  should  be  no  litter  min- 
gled with  the  soft  hay  that  lined  the  nest.  How  long  this 
underground  life  lasts  before  hibernation  really  commences, 
it  is  difficult  to  determine  ;  but  as  this  torpid  state  does 
not  continue  until  their  food-supply  is  again  obtainable 
out  of  doors,  the  chipmunks,  no  doubt,  store  away  suffi- 
cient for  their  needs  throughout  the  early  spring,  and  per- 
haps until  berries  are  ripe.  Charles  c  AbbotL 


AN    EXCAVATOR. 

1.  WALKING  through  the  fields  one  May  morning,  I 
surprised  a  mole  above  ground — a  very  large  specimen, 
one  of  the  giants  of  this  kind.     It  was  an  unwonted  spec- 
tacle, something  I  had  never  seen  before — this  purblind, 
shovel-footed,  subterranean  dweller,  this  metaphysician  of 
the  earth,  groping  his  way  along   in   the  open   daylight. 
Had  he  grown  tired,  then,  of  the  darkness,  of  the  endless 
burrowings  that  lead  nowhither,  of  undermining  the  paths 
and  the  garden,  and  culling  off  the  tender  rootlets  of  the 
plants  ? 

2.  He  was  ill-equipped  for  traveling  above  ground  ;  he 
was  like  a  stranded  fish ;  the  soil  was  his  element,  and  he 
knew  it  as  well  as  I  did.     The  moment  I  disturbed  him  he 
began  to  go  into  the  ground  as  a  diver  into  the  water. 
When  he  moved,  his  tendency  was  downward,  like  a  plow. 
It  was  amusing  to  see  his  broad,   muscular,  naked  front 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  315 

feet,  while  turned  outward  and  upward  instead  of  down- 
ward, shovel  their  way  through  the  grass  into  the  turf.  In 
less  than  half  a  minute  he  would  nearly  bury  himself  from 
view.  Then  by  the  tail  I  would  draw  him  forth,  and  see 
him  repeat  the  attempt.  He  did  not  look  or  feel  about  for 
a  hole  or  for  a  soft  place,  but  assaulted  the  turf  wherever 
he  touched  it,  his  slender,  sensitive  nose  feeling  the  way, 
and  his  huge,  fleshy  hands  opening  the  passage.  He  was 
indeed  a  giant  in  these  members  ;  they  were  to  him  what 
the  wings  of  a  bird  are  to  the  bird ;  all  his  powers  and 
speed  lay  here ;  his  hind  legs  were  small  and  feeble,  and 
often  trailed  behind  him,  as  if  helpless  or  broken. 

3.  Fancy  a  race  of  savages  by  some  peculiar  manual  oc- 
cupation developing  an  enormous  hand — a  hand  as  long  and 
broad  as  a  scoop-shovel,  usurping  the  wrist  and  the  forearm, 
with  the  legs  and  feet  proportionately  small,  and  you  have 
a  type  of  the  mole.     This  creature  was  a  cripple  at  the 
surface,  but  a  most  successful  traveler  a  few  inches  below. 
His  fur  was  like  silk  plush,  finer  and  softer  than  that  of 
any  other  creature  known  to  me,  excepting,  perhaps,  the  bat. 
Why  should  these  creatures  of  darkness  have  such  delicate 
vestments  ?    Probably  because  they  are  creatures  of  dark- 
ness.    The  owl  is  softer  clad  than  the  hawk,  the  hare  than 
the  squirrel,  the  moth  than  the  butterfly. 

4.  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  mole's  eyes.     I  blew  open 
the  fur  and  explored  the  place  with  the  point  of  a  pin,  but 
no  eyes,  or  semblance  to  eyes,  could  I  find,  and  I  began  to 
think  that  Aristotle  was  right  in  saying  the  mole  is  blind. 
Then  I  dispatched  him  and  stripped  off  his  skin,  and  the 
eyes  were  revealed — two  minute  black  specks,  that  adhered 
to  the  tissues  of  the  head  after  the  skin  was  removed.     It 
was  only  by  the  aid  of  a  pocket-glass  that  I  was  able  to  de- 
termine that  they  really  were  eyes.     There  was  no  eye- 
socket,  and  I  wondered  that  they  had  not  come  away  with 
the  skin.     Probably  the  only  use  the  mole  has  for  eyes  is 


316  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

to  distinguish  daylight  from  darkness,  and  for  this  purpose 
these  microscopic  dots  may  suffice  ;  but  as  regards  any  other 
and  more  specific  visual  powers,  he  is  practically  blind. 

John  Burrougfis. 


FOREST   ENGINEERS. 

1.  THE  beaver  is  at  once  an  engineer,  a  carpenter,  and 
a  mason.     As  we   shall  see,  it  prepares  the  place  for  its 
habitations  with  all  the  skill  of  an  experienced  engineer, 
and  in  its  building  it  uses  the  materials  and  methods  of  both 
the  carpenter  and  mason.     The  beaver  was  once  an  inhabi- 
tant of  all  the  northern  part  of  the  United  States,  but  is 
now  met  with  only  in  the  remote  parts  of  the  Northwest 
and  in  Canada.     Its  nearest  relation  now  among  us  is  the 
musquash,   or    musk-rat,  which  ought    to  be   called    the 
musk-beaver,  as  it  is  no  rat  at  all.     And  if  you  want  to 
know  about  the  beaver,  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  ob- 
serve the  habits  of  the  musquash.     His  house  is  very  much 
like  the  beaver's  house,  only  smaller,  and  he  can  do  almost 
everything  that  his  cousin  does,   except  make  dams  and 
canals.     And  even  the  beaver  does  not  build  those,  except 
when  they  are  really  needed,  as  I  shall  show. 

2.  A  beaver  is  two  or  three  times  as  large  as  a  musquash  ; 
indeed,  sometimes  he  is  as  heavy  as  a  stout  boy,  weighing- 
seventy  or  eighty  pounds.     His  tail  is  flattened,  like  that 
of  the  musquash,  only  much  more  so,  and  the  edges  are 
horizontal  instead  of  vertical.     It  was  once  thought  that 
he  used  this  broad,  flat  tail  as  a  spade  or  trowel,  but  this  is 
not  now  generally  believed.     At  any  rate,  the  tail  is  the 
most  curious  part  of  the  animal,  it  is  so  long  and  large, 
and  covered  with  rough  scales  instead  of  fur.     The  beaver 
sculls  his  way  with  it  in  the  water,  as  you  can  scull  a  boat 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS. 


317 


by  one  oar  in  the  stern.  And  he  supports  himself  by  it 
when  he  rears  on  his  hind  legs  to  cut  down  a  tree.  I  sus- 
pect a  beaver  who  had  lost  his  tail  would  find  it  hard  to 
get  a  living. 


Beaver  Dam, 


3.  I  said  that  the  beaver  does  not  always  build  dams. 
That  is  one  thing  which  shows  his  intelligence.  If  he  lives 
beside  a  lake,  with  plenty  of  water,  why  should  he  need  a 
dam  ?  In  such  a  case  he  has  a  hole  in  the  bank,  and  a  hut 


318  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

in  front  of  it,  and  keeps  house  just  as  a  musquash  would. 
But  if  he  has  to  live  by  a  stream  where  there  is  not  water 
enough  to  surround  his  hut,  he  then  goes  to  work,  just  as 
a  man  would,  to  make  an  artificial  pond  by  means  of  a  dam. 

4.  In  the  first  place,  he  and  his  family  cut  down  small 
trees,  and  then  divide  them  into  shorter  lengths,  such  as 
they  can  carry  in  their  mouths.     Sometimes  the  trees  are 
as  much  as  two  feet  thick.     They  are  really  cut,  not  merely 
nibbled  or 'hacked.     The  beaver's  front  teeth  are  sharp  like 
chisels,  and  his  work  looks  as  if  done  with  a  chisel,  in  long 
cuts.     It  is  smoother  than  a  boy's  hatchet-cutting  is  apt  to 
be,  and  looks  at  a  distance  as  if  done  with  an  axe.     Many 
specimens  of  these  cuttings  are  now  preserved  in  museums, 
and  they  are  very  curious. 

5.  Then  the  beaver  drags  these  cuttings  to  the  place 
where  he  is  to  build  his  dam.     He  brings  branches  in  his 
mouth,  and  pushes  earth  with  his  paws,  and  rolls  stones 
along,  and  sometimes  has  been  seen  swimming  with  hay 
and  brush  upon  his  head — all  to  be  piled  together  and  made 
into  a  dam.     At  first  the  dam  is  rough  and  loose,  like  the 
mound  of  a  musquash.     But,  when  once  made,  it  lasts  for 
years  and  even  centuries,  and  the  beavers   keep  constantly 
at  work  on  it,  smoothing  it  and  pressing  it  down  and  stop- 
ping all  the  gaps,  so  that  at  last  it  is  a  solid  dam,  that  will 
bear  the  weight  of  many  men.     These  old  dams  are  neatly 
finished  with  earth-work  on  the  upper  side  and  with  rough 
stick-work  on  the  lower  side,  and  gradually  they  are  over- 
grown with  grass  and  bushes,  and  look  as  if    they  were 
natural  banks.      A  millwright  in  Michigan  told  me  that 
the  beaver-dams  were  as  solid  as  any  that  he  could  build, 
and  that  he  built  his  upon  just  the  same  plan — filling  the 
stream  with  boughs,  and  gradually  pressing  these  down  with 
stones  and  gravel  and  logs. 

6.  The  beavers   keep  these  dams  constantly  in  repair, 
and  may  sometimes  be  seen  by  night  at  work  on  them. 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  319 

when  the  trappers  have  made  holes  in  them.  There  are 
sometimes  several  dams  on  the  same  stream,  one  below  an- 
other, so  that  the  water  of  each  flows  back  nearly  to  the 
foot  of  that  above.  Sometimes  they  seem  to  protect  a 
large  dam  by  a  smaller  one  below,  so  that  the  pressure  of 
the  water  from  below  may  resist  the  pressure  at  the  bottom 
of  the  principal  dam.  In  one  case  seven  dams  were  found 
on  the  same  stream  within  a  distance  of  one  hundred  and 
sixty  feet. 

7.  But  I  do  not  think  that  even  the  dams  made  by 
beavers  show  so  much  thought  or  ingenuity  as  their  canals. 
It  is  much  easier  and  safer  for  them  to  carry  their  food 
and  building  material  by  water  than  by  land.     So  some- 
times they  cut  a  canal  across  the  bend  of  a  stream  to 
shorten  the  distance.     Sometimes,  again,  it  is  cut  through 
the  mud  until  they  reach  firm  ground  for  their  burrows. 
These  canals  are  usually  about  three  feet  wide  and  three 
deep,  and  they  are  sometimes  five  hundred  feet  long.     Any 
engineer  will  tell  you  that  it  needs  a  good  deal  of  skill  and 
ingenuity  to  decide  where  to  lay  out  such  a  canal  as  that, 
and  then  to  cut  it  regularly,  so  that  the  water  shall  flow 
smoothly  through.     And  the  most  remarkable  thing  of  all 
is,  that  they  know  how  to  combine  the  principles  of  the 
canal  and  the  dam,  so  that  when  they  come  to  an  obstruc- 
tion, such  as  a  rock  in  the  bed  of  their  stream,  they  imme- 
diately make  a  dam  to  secure  the  necessary  flow  of  water. 
Successive  generations  evidently  work  for  many  years  upon 
these  canals,  and  I  can  hardly  think  of  anything  else  done 
by  an  animal  that  shows  so  much  contrivance. 

8.  The  house  or  lodge  is  always  separate  from  the  dam, 
and  it  looks  like  that  of  the  musquash,  only  that  it  is  much 
larger,  and  built  of  stronger  materials.     Sometimes  a  cord 
of  wood  is  used  in  building  one  house.     There  is  an  en- 
trance under  water  like  that  of  the  musquash,  and  some- 
times two.     These   openings  are  very  neatly  made.     The 


320  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

beavers  drag  their  branches  and  pieces  of  bark  into  the 
water,  and  then  take  them  into  the  dining-room  by  the 
hidden  entrance.  Indeed,  I  believe  the  house  is  all  dining- 
room,  but  it  is  always  very  neatly  swept. 

9.  There  are  not  often  more  than  eight  or  ten  beavers, 
old  and  young,  in  a  single  house.     Hearne,  an  old  traveler, 
once  found  thirty-seven  under  a  single   roof.     But  I  sup- 
pose that  was  a  kind  of  "tenement-house"  with   several 
families.     Besides  the  houses,  they  like  to  have  burrows  in 
the  banks,  and  spend  part  of  their  time   in  each.     The 
young  beavers  live  at  home  for  about  two  years  before  they 
go  to  housekeeping  for  themselves.     They  are  queer  little 
things,  and  their  cry  is  like  that  of  a  young  child.     Mr. 
Morgan  once  saw  a  little  beaver  in  an  Indian's  house,  and 
it  was  lapping  milk  out  of  a  saucer,  like  a  kitten,  and  an 
Indian  baby  was  pulling  its  fur.     Then  there  was  a  little 
cry,  and  Mr.  Morgan  thought  it  was  the  Indian  baby,  till 
he  found  it  was  the  baby  beaver. 

10.  It  has  always  been  an  interesting  question  for  natu- 
ralists how  the  beaver  learns  to  build.     Does  he  learn  it 
by  observing  his  parents,  or  would  he  know  how  to  do  it  if 
he  were  brought  up  alone  ?    Buff  on,  a  great  naturalist, 
thought  that  it  was  all  learned  by  observation.     So  Cuvier, 
another  great  naturalist,    took  a  very  young  beaver  and 
brought  him  up  by  hand,  apart  from  all  his  kind.     He 
was  fed  with  branches  of  willow.     He  ate  the  bark,  then 
cut  the  branches  in  pieces  and  piled  them  up  in  the  corner 
of  the  cage.     Then  they  gave  him  earth,  straw,  and  other 
branches.     They  saw  him  form  the  earth  into  lumps  with 
his  forefeet.     Then  he  pushed  these  lumps  together  with 
his  mouth  and  chin,  and  piled  them,  with  the  straw  and 
branches,  into  a  solid  mass.     This  shows  that  an  instinct 
taught  the  little  beaver  to  build,  even  without  any  other 
beaver  to  set  the  example. 

11.  Now,  there  are  several  remarkable  things  about  the 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  321 

instinct  of  beavers.  First,  the  way  they  act  together  in 
so  large  a  family.  Most  quadrupeds  act  singly  or  in  pairs. 
Then  the  way  they  use  their  judgment  in  their  own  aifairs. 
This  is  what  makes  it  so  hard  to  tell  the  difference  be- 
tween what  we  call  instinct  and  what  we  call  reason.  Ani- 
mals, like  beavers,  seem  really  to  think  and  decide,  for 
instance,  whether  they  need  a  dam,  instead  of  going  on 
blindly  and  building  one  whether  they  need  it  or  not.  If 
the  water  is  already  wide  and  deep  enough,  they  save  them- 
selves the  trouble,  and  live  comfortably  in  their  houses, 
like  musquashes. 

12.  Then,  again,  when  they  are  placed  in  wholly  new 
positions  they  are  said  to  change  their  habits  altogether. 
When  very  hard  pressed,  they  not  only  do  without  a  dam, 
but  they  do  without  a  house,  and  they  live  almost  alone. 
On  the  river  Elbe,  in  Europe,  they  have  ceased  to  build 
houses  within  the  last  fifty  years,  and  live  in  holes  in  the 
cliffs  along  the  banks  of  the  stream,  On  the  banks  of  the 
Rhone,  where  they  are  still  found,  they  make  holes  in  the 
dikes  which  keep  the  river  from  overflowing.  So  they  can 
not  be  hunted  without  destroying  the  dikes. 

T.  W.  Higginson. 


ELEPHANTS,    AND    HOW   THEY  ARE   CAUGHT. 

1.  ELEPHANTS,  like  dogs,  show  the  most  intelligence 
when  tamed.  Indeed,  it  is  said  that  out  of  all  the  animal 
world  these  are  the  only  two  creatures  that  will  work  in  the 
absence  of  a  master.  You  know  how  a  dog  will  carry  home 
a  basket  or  a  bundle,  and  go  trotting  along  without  any- 
body to  watch  him.  It  is  just  so  with  the  elephant. 
When  he  has  been  trained  to  do  a  certain  work,  he  will 
keep  at  it  by  himself,  and  will  seem  to  take  as  much  in- 
terest in  it,  and  do  it  as  intelligently,  as  any  man  would 


322  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

do.  For  instance,  when  elephants  are  taught  to  pile  logs 
in  a  timber-yard,  in  the  East  Indies,  they  will  go  on  pil- 
ing without  any  command  from  their  masters  ;  and  they 
are  taught,  when  the  pile  grows  high,  to  lean  two  logs 
against  it  and  roll  the  remaining  logs  to  the  top. 

2.  I  remember  a  story  told  by  Sir  James  Tennent  which 
shows  this  independence  of  action  in  the  elephant.     He 
says  :  "  One  evening,  when  riding  in  the  vicinity  of  Kandy, 
my  horse  showed  some  excitement  at  a  noise  which  ap- 
proached us  in  the  thick  jungle,  and  which  consisted  of 
the  ejaculation  urmph  !  urmph  !  in  a  hoarse  and  dissatis- 
fied tone.     A  turn  in  the  forest  explained  the  mystery,  by 
bringing  me  face  to  face  with  a  tame  elephant,  unaccom- 
panied by  any  attendant.     He  was  laboring  painfully  to 
carry  a  heavy  beam  of  timber,  which  he  balanced  across  his 
tusks ;  but,  the  pathway  being  narrow,  he  was  forced  to 
bend  his  head  to  one  side  to  permit  it  to  pass  endways,  and 
the  exertion  and  inconvenience  combined  led  him  to  utter 
the  dissatisfied  sounds.     On  seeing  us  halt,  the  elephant 
raised  his  head,  reconnoitered  us  a  moment,  then  flung 
down  the  timber  and  forced  himself  backward  among  the 
brushwood  so  as  to  leave  a  passage,  of  which  he  expected 
us  to  avail  ourselves. 

3.  "My  horse  still  hesitated  ;  the  elephant  observed  it, 
and  impatiently  thrust  himself  still  deeper  into  the  jungle, 
repeating  his  cry  of  urmph!  but  in  a  voice  evidently  meant 
to  encourage  us  to  come  on.     Still  the  horse  trembled,  and 
being  anxious  to  observe  the  instinct  of  the  two  sagacious 
creatures,  I  forbore  any  interference.     Again  the  elephant 
wedged  himself  farther  in  among  the  trees,  and  waited 
impatiently  for  us  to  pass  him  ;  and  after  the  horse  had 
done  so,  tremblingly  and  timidly,  I  saw  the  wise  creature 
stoop  and  take  up  his  heavy  burden,  trim  and  balance 
it  on  his  tusks,  and  resume  his  route,  hoarsely  snorting  as 
before." 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  323 

4.  Now,  almost  any  trained  animal,  if  left  alone  to  de- 
cide for  himself  in  such  a  case,  would  have  put  down  his 
load,  if  he  could,  and  walked  away.     But  how  like  a  faith- 
ful and  industrious  man  this  elephant  acted !     As  there 
was  no  room  to  pass,  he  made  way,  waited  for  the  horse, 
encouraged  him  to  come  on,  and  then,  when  he  had  passed, 
took  up  his  load  again  and  went  along. 

5.  But  I  think  the  most  wonderful  manner  in  which 
the  Asiatic  elephants  show  their  intelligence  and  fidelity 
is  the  way  the  tame  animals  help  to  ensnare  the  wild  ones. 
But  for  their  skill  and  ingenuity  very  few  elephants  would 
be  captured  alive.     This  is  the  way  they  do  it.     When  a 
herd  of  elephants  is  to  be  caught,  in  Ceylon,  the  people 
build  an  inclosure  called  a  corral.     It  is  made  of  small 
trees  stuck  in  the  ground  and  secured  by  cross-beams.     It 
is  an  inclosure  perhaps  five  hundred  feet  long  by  half  that 
width  ;  it  has  only  a  small  opening  at  one  end. 

6.  At  the  opening  there  is  a  gate,  and  from  each  angle 
of  the  end  by  which  the  elephants  are  to  approach,  two 
lines  of  the  same  strong  fencing  are  continued  on  each  side 
and  cautiously  concealed  among  the  trees.     Then  men  go 
beating  through  the  woods  for  many  miles,  driving  the  ele- 
phants toward  this  inclosure,  which  is  easily  done,  for  they 
are  very  shy  and  gentle  so  long  as  they  are  not  excited. 
Sometimes  it  takes  more  than  a  month  to  bring  together 
forty  or  fifty  elephants  in  this  way,  and  sometimes  two 
hundred  have  been  caught.     At  last,  when  the  hunters 
have  them  all  within  the  projecting  fences,  they  choose  a 
favorable  night  and  suddenly  light  a  great  many  fires  and 
torches,  discharge  guns,  beat  drums  and  tom-toms,  and  try 
to  drive  the  elephants   into  the  corral.      Sometimes  the 
whole  herd  will  break  through  the  fences  and  get  away  ; 
but  commonly  they  are  driven  by  degrees  into  the  corral    , 

7.  The  moment  they  get  inside,  the  gate  is  shut,  and 
the  hunters  immediately  surround  the  corral  with  torches, 


32 J:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

which  they  push  through  the  fence  at  the  elephants,  if 
they  approach,  so  that  the  great  creatures  are  frightened 
and  gradually  collect  in  the  middle  of  the  inclosure,  form- 
ing a  circle,  with  their  young  in  the  center.  Then  it  is 
that  the  wonderful  skill  and  intelligence  of  the  trained 
elephants  are  called  into  use.  I  will  give  you  an  account 
of  this  scene,  drawn  from  a  description  by  Sir  James  Ten- 
nent,  who  watched  the  whole  of  one  of  these  hunts  from  a 
platform  built  in  a  tree  overlooking  the  inclosure. 

8.  After  the  herd  was  all  in,  the  bars  which  secured 
the  entrance  to  the  corral  were  cautiously  withdrawn,  and 
two  trained  elephants  passed  stealthily  in,  each  ridden  by 
his  mahout  (or  driver)  and  one  attendant,  and  carrying  a 
strong  collar  formed  by  coils  of  rope,  made  of  cocoa-nut 
fiber,  from  which  hung  on  either  side  cords  of  elk's  hide, 
prepared  with  a  ready  noose.     With  them,  and  concealed 
behind  them,  the  head  man  of  the  "noosers"  crept  in, 
eager  to  secure  the  honor  of  taking  the  first  elephant. 

9.  One  of  the  two  decoy  elephants  was  of  prodigious 
age,  having  been  in  the  service  of  the  Dutch  and  English 
governments  in  succession  for  upward  of  a  century.     The 
other,  called  by  her  keeper  "Siribeddi,"  was  about  fifty 
years  old,  and  distinguished  for  her  gentleness  and  docility. 
She  was  a  most  accomplished  decoy,  and  showed  the  ut- 
most relish  for  the  sport.     Having  entered  the  corral  noise- 
lessly, she  moved  along  with  a  sly  composure  and  an  as- 
sumed air  of  easy  indifference,  sauntering  leisurely  in  the 
direction  of  the  captives,  and  halting  now  and  then  to  pluck 
a  bunch  of  grass  or  a  few  leaves  as  she  passed. 

10.  As  she  approached  the  herd,  they  put  themselves 
in  motion  to  receive  her,  and  the  leader,  having  advanced 
in  front  and  passed  his  trunk  gently  over  her  head,  turned 
and  paced  slowly  back  to  his  dejected  companion.     Siri- 
beddi followed  with  the  same  listless  step,  and  drew  her- 
self up  close  behind  him,  thus  affording  the  nooser  an  op- 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  325 

portunity  to  stoop  under  her  and  slip  the  noose  over  the 
hind  foot  of  the  wild  one.  The  latter  instantly  perceived 
his  danger,  shook  off  the  rope,  and  turned  to  attack  the 
man.  He  would  have  suffered  for  his  temerity  had  not 
Siribeddi  protected  him  by  raising  her  trunk  and  driving 
the  assailant  into  the  midst  of  the  herd,  when  the  old  man, 
being  slightly  wounded,  was  helped  out  of  the  corral,  and 
his  son  Ranghanie  took  his  place. 

11.  The  herd  again   collected  in  a  circle,   with   their 
heads  toward  the  center.     The  largest  male  was  singled 
out,  and  two  tame  ones  pushed  boldly  in,  one  on  either 
side  of  him,  till  the  three  stood  nearly  abreast.     He  made 
no  resistance,  but  betrayed  his  uneasiness  by  shifting  rest- 
lessly from  foot  to  foot.     Ranghanie  now  crept  up,  and, 
holding  the  rope  open  with  both  hands  (its  other  extremi- 
ty being  made  fast  to  Siribeddi's  collar),  and  watching  the 
instant  when  the  wild  elephant  lifted  his  hind  foot,  he 
succeeded  in  passing  the  noose  over  its  leg,  drew  it  close, 
and  fled  to  the  rear.     The  two  tame  elephants  instantly 
fell  back,  Siribeddi  stretched  the  rope  to  its  full  length, 
and,  while  she  dragged  out  the  captive,  her  companion 
placed  himself  between  her  and  the  herd,  to  prevent  any 
interference. 

12.  In  order  to  secure  him  to  a  tree,  he  had  to  be  drawn 
backward  some  twenty  or  thirty  yards,   making  furious 
resistance,  bellowing  in  terror,  plunging  .on  all  sides  and 
crushing  the  smaller  timber,  which  bent  like  reeds  beneath 
his  clumsy  struggles.     Siribeddi  drew  him  steadily  after 
her  and  wound  the  rope  round  the  proper  tree,  holding  it 
all  the  time  at  its  full  tension,   and  stepping  cautiously 
across  it  when,  in  order  to  give  it  a  second  turn,  it  was 
necessary  to  pass  between  the  tree  and  the  elephant.     With 
a  coil  round  the  stem,  however,  it  was  beyond  her  strength 
to  haul  the  prisoner  close  up,  which  was,  nevertheless,  neces- 
sary in  order  to  make  him  perfectly  fast ;  but  the  second 


326  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

tame  one,  perceiving  the  difficulty,  returned  from  the  herd, 
confronted  the  struggling  prisoner,  pushed  him  shoulder 
to  shoulder  and  head  to  head,  and  forced  him  backward, 
while  at  every  step  Siribeddi  hauled  in  the  slackened  rope 
till  she  brought  him  fairly  up  to  the  foot  of  the  tree,  where 
he  was  made  fast.  A  second  noose  was  then  passed  over 
the  other  hind  leg  and  secured  like  the  first,  both  legs 
being  afterward  "  hobbled  "  together  by  ropes. 

13.  The  second  elephant  singled  out  from  the  herd  was 
secured  in  the  same  manner  as  the  first.     It  was  a  female. 
When  the  noose  was  placed  upon  her  forefoot  she  seized 
it  with  her  trunk  and  succeeded   in  carrying  it   to  her 
mouth,  where  she  would  speedily  have  severed  it  had  not 
a  tame  elephant  interfered,  and,  placing  his  foot  on  the 
rope,  pressed  it  downward  out  of  her  jaws.     It  is  strange 
that  in  these  encounters  the  wild  elephants  made  no  at- 
tempt to  attack  or  dislodge  the  mahouts  who  rode  on  the 
tame  ones. 

14.  The  conduct  of  the  tame  elephants  during  all  these 
proceedings  was  truly  wonderful.     They  seemed  to  under- 
stand every  movement,  both  the  object  to  be  attained  and 
the  means  of  accomplishing  it.     They  showed  the  utmost 
enjoyment  in  what  was  going  on.     Their  caution  was  as 
remarkable  as  their  sagacity ;  there  was  no  hurrying,  no 
confusion,  they  never  ran  foul  of  the  ropes,  were  never  in 
the  way  of  those  noosed,  and,  amid  the  most  violent  strug- 
gles, when  the  tame  ones  had  frequently  to  step  across  the 
captives,  they  in  no  instance  trampled  on  them,  or  occa- 
sioned the  slightest  accident  or  annoyance.     So  far  from 
that,  they  saw  for  themselves  a  difficulty  or  a  danger,  and 
tried  at  once  to  remove  it.     In  tying  up  one  of  the  larger 
elephants,  he  contrived,  before  he  could  be  hauled  close  up 
to  the  tree,  to  walk  once  or  twice  round  it,  carrying  the 
rope  with  him  ;  the  decoy,  perceiving  the  advantage  he 
had  thus  gained  over  the  nooser,  walked  up  of  her  own 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  327 

accord  and  pushed  him  backward  with  her  head  till  she 
made  him  unwind  himself  again,  when  the  rope  was  hauled 
tight  and  made  fast.  More  than  once,  when  a  wild  one 
was  extending  his  trunk,  and  would  have  intercepted  the 
rope  about  to  be  placed  over  his  leg,  Siribeddi,  by  a  sudden 
motion  of  her  own  trunk,  pushed  his  aside  and  prevented 
him  ;  and  on  one  occasion,  when  successive  efforts  had 
failed  to  put  the  noose  over  the  leg  of  an  elephant  which 
was  already  secured  by  one  foot,  but  which  wisely  put  the 
other  to  the  ground  as  often  as  it  was  attempted  to  pass 
the  noose  under  it,  the  decoy  watched  her  opportunity, 
and,  when  his  foot  was  again  raised,  suddenly  pushed  in 
her  own  leg  underneath  it  and  held  it  up  till  the  noose 
was  attached  and  drawn  tight. 

15.  Now,  I  do  not  know  where  you  can  find  such  an 
exhibition  of  skill  as  this  in  any  other  animal.  Of  course, 
the  elephants  have  been  trained,  in  some  degree,  by  their 
drivers  ;  but  all  accounts  agree  that  the  chief  skill  is  shown 
by  the  animals  themselves.  They  set  their  brains  at  work, 
in  order  to  outwit  the  brains  of  the  wild  elephants.  They 
observe  what  is  needed,  and  act  promptly  for  themselves, 
without  orders.  Think  of  that  great  creature,  with  his 
heavy  foot  pushing  the  rope  quickly  from  the  trunk  of  the 
other  elephant,  for  fear  he  should  break  it  in  two.  Horses 
and  dogs  can  be  trained  to  do  very  difficult  things,  but 
they  do  nothing  which  requires  such  quickness  and  fore- 
sight as  this.  j  w  Higginson. 


THE    FORCE    OF    INSTINCT. 

1.  A  PKETTY  little  fawn  had  been  brought  in  very  young 
from  the  woods,  and  nursed  and  petted  by  a  lady  in  the 
village  until  it  had  become  as  tame  as  possible.  It  was 
graceful,  as  those  little  creatures  always  are,  and  so  gentle 


328  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

and  playful  that  it  became  a  great  favorite,  following  the 
different  members  of  the  family  about,  caressed  by  the 
neighbors,  and  welcome  everywhere. 

2.  One  morning,  after  gamboling  about  as  usual  until 
weary,  it  threw  itself  down  in  the  sunshine,  at  the  feet  of  one 
of  its  friends,  upon  the  steps  of  a  store.     There  came  along 
a  countryman  who  for  several  years  had  been  a  hunter  by 
pursuit,  and  who  still  kept  several  dogs ;  one  of  the  hounds 
came  with  him  to  the  village  on  this  occasion.     The  dog, 
as  it  approached  the  spot  where  the  fawn  lay,  suddenly 
stopped  ;  the  little  animal  saw  him  and  darted  to  its  feet. 
It  had  lived  more  than  half  its  life  among  the  dogs  of  the 
village,  and  had  apparently  lost  all  fear  of  them ;  but  it 
seemed  now  to  know  instinctively  that  an  enemy  was  at 
hand.     In  an  instant  a  change  came  over  it ;  and  the  gen- 
tleman who  related  the  incident,  and  who  was  standing  by 
at  the  moment,  observed  that  he  had  never  in  his  life  seen 
a  finer  sight  than  the  sudden  arousing  of  instinct  in  that 
beautiful  creature. 

3.  In   a  second   its  whole    character   and   appearance 
seemed  changed,  all  its  past  habits  were  forgotten,  every 
wild  impulse  was  awake ;  its  head  erect,   its  nostrils  di- 
lated, its  eye  flashing.     In  another  instant,  before  the  spec- 
tators had  thought  of  the  danger,  before  its  friends  could 
secure  it,  the  fawn  was  leaping  wildly  through  the  street, 
and  the  hound  in  full  pursuit.     The  by-standers  were  eager 
to  save   it ;  several   persons   instantly  followed   its   track, 
the  friends  who  had  long  fed  and  fondled  it  calling  the 
name  it  had  hitherto  known,  but  in  vain. 

4.  The  hunter  endeavored  to  whistle  back  his  dog,  but 
with  no  better  success.     In  half  a  minute  the  fawn  had 
turned  the  first  corner,  dashed  onward  toward  the  lake, 
and  thrown  itself  into  the  water.     But  if  for  a  moment  the 
startled  creature  believed  itself  safe  in  the  cool  bosom  of 
the  lake,  it  was  soon  undeceived  ;  the  hound  followed  in 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  329 

hot  and   eager  chase,  while   a  dozen  village  dogs  joined 
blindly  in  the  pursuit. 

5.  Quite  a  crowd  collected  on  the  bank — men,  women, 
and  children — anxious  for  the  fate  of  the  little  animal  known 
to  them  all  ;  some  threw  themselves  into  boats,  hoping  to 
intercept  the  hound  before  he  reached  his  prey  ;  but  the 
plashing  of  the  oars,  the  eager  voices  of  the  men  and  boys, 
and  the  barking  of  the  dogs,  must  have  filled  the  beating 
heart  of  the  poor  fawn  with  terror  and  anguish,  as  though 
every  creature  on  the  spot  where  it  had  once  been  caressed 
and  fondled  had  suddenly  turned  into  a  deadly  foe. 

6.  It  was  soon  seen  that  the  little  animal  was  directing 
its  course  across  a  bay  toward  the  nearest  borders  of  the 
forest,  and  immediately  the  owner  of  the  hound  crossed  the 
bridge,  running  at  full  speed  in  the  same  direction,  hop- 
ing to  stop  his  dog  as  he  landed.     On  the  fawn  swam,  as 
it  never  swam  before,  its  delicate  head  scarcely  seen  above 
the  water,  but  leaving  a  disturbed  track,  which  betrayed  its 
course  alike  to  anxious  friends  and  fierce  enemies.     As  it 
approached  the  land  the  exciting  interest  became  intense. 
The  hunter  was  already  on  the  same  line  of  shore,   calling 
loudly  and  angrily  to  his  dog,  but  the  animal  seemed  to 
have  quite  forgotten  his  master's  voice  in  the  pitiless  pur- 
suit.    The   fawn   touched   the   land  ;  in   one   leap  it  had 
crossed  the  narrow  line  of  beach,  and  in  another  instant  it 
would  reach  the  cover  of  the  woods.     The  hound  followed 
true  to  the  scent,  aiming  at  the  same  spot  on  the  shore  ; 
his  master,  anxious  to  meet  him,  had  run  at  full  speed, 
and   was  now  coining  up  at  the  most  critical   moment ; 
would  the  dog  hearken  to  his  voice,  or  could  the  hunter 
reach  him  in  time  to  seize  and  control  him  ?    A  shout  from 
the  village  bank  proclaimed  that  the  fawn  had  passed  out 
of  sight  into  the  forest ;  at  the  same  instant,  the  hound,  as 
he  touched  the  land,  felt  the  hunter's  strong  arm  clutching 
his  neck. 


330  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

7.  The  worst  was  believed  to  be  over;  the  fawn  was 
leaping  up  the  mountain-side,  and  its   enemy  under  re- 
straint.    The  other  dogs,  seeing  their  leader  cowed,  were 
easily   managed.     A  number  of  persons,    men   and  boys, 
dispersed  themselves  through  the  wood  in  search  of  the  lit- 
tle creature,  but  without  success  ;  they  all  returned  to  the 
village,  reporting  that  the  animal  had  not  been  seen  by 
them.      Some   persons  thought  that,  after  its  fright  had 
passed  over,  it  would  return   of  its  own  accord.     It  had 
worn  a  pretty  collar,  with  its  owner's  name  engraved  upon 
it,  so  that  it  could  be  easily  known  from  any  other  fawn 
that  might  be  straying  about  the  woods. 

8.  Before  many  hours  had  passed,  a  hunter  presented 
himself  to  the  lady  whose  pet  the  little  creature  had  been, 
and,  showing  a  collar  with  her  name  upon  it,  said  that  he 
had  been  out  in  the  woods,  and  saw  a  fawn  in  the  dis- 
tance ;  the  little  animal,  instead  of  bounding  away  as  he 
had  expected,  moved  toward  him  ;  he  took  aim,  fired,  and 
shot  it  to  the  heart.     When  he  found  the  collar  about  its 
neck  he  was  very  sorry  that  he  had  killed  it.     And  so  the 
poor  little  thing  died.    One  would  have  thought  that  terri- 
ble chase  would  have  made  it  afraid  of  man  ;  but  no,  it 
forgot  the  evil  and  remembered  the  kindness  only,  and 
came  to  meet  as  a  friend  the  hunter  who  shot  it.     It  was 
long  mourned  by  its  best  friend.  Miss  ^oo  er 


CURIOUS   FRIENDSHIPS. 

1.  WHY  married  folk,  so  ill-mated  as  to  agree  only  to 
differ,  should  be  said  to  lead  a  cat-and-dog  life,  is  not  very 
clear,  since  those  household  pets,  being  intelligent,  affec- 
tionate, cheerful,  and  sociable  creatures,  very  frequently 
contrive  to  live  harmoniously  enough  together.  The  Aston 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  331 

Hall  cat,  that  ate,  associated,  and  slept  with  a  huge  blood- 
hound, only  did  what  innumerable  cats  have  done.  Such 
companionships  are  too  common  to  be  reckoned  among 
strange  animal  friendships,  such  as  that  most  singular  in- 
stance of  attachment  between  two  animals  of  opposite  na- 
tures and  habits,  related  to  Mr.  Jesse  by  a  person  on  whose 
veracity  he  could  depend.  The  narrator  boasted  the  pro- 
prietorship of  an  alligator  which  had  become  so  tame  that 
it  would  follow  him  up  and  down  stairs  ;  while  it  was  so 
fond  of  his  cat's  society  that,  when  she  lay  down  before 
the  fire,  the  alligator  followed  suit,  made  a  pillow  of  puss, 
and  went  off  to  sleep ;  and,  when  awake,  the  reptile  was 
only  happy  so  long  as  puss  was  somewhere  near,  turning 
morose  and  ill-tempered  whenever  she  left  it  to  its  own 
devices. 

2.  Many  equine  celebrities  have  delighted  in  feline  com- 
panions, following  in  this  the  example  of  their  notable  an- 
cestor, the  Godolphin  Arab,  between  whom  and  a  black  cat 
an  intimate  friendship  existed  for  years — a  friendship  that 
came  to  a  touching  end  ;  for  when  that  famous  steed  died, 
his  old  companion  would  not  leave  the  body,  and,  when  it 
had  seen  it  put  underground,  crawled  slowly  away  to  a 
hay-loft,  and,  refusing  to  be  comforted,  pined  away  and 
died. 

3.  Mr.    Huntington,  of  East  Bloomfield,   New  York, 
owns  a  thorough-bred  horse  named  -Narragansett   and  a 
white  cat.     The  latter  was  wont  to  pay  a  daily  visit  to  Nar- 
ragansett's  stall,  to  hunt  up  the  mice  and  then  enjoy  a  quiet 
nap.     Mr.  Huntington  removed  to  Rochester  with  his  fam- 
ily, leaving  the  cat  behind  ;  but  she  complained  so  loudly 
and  so  unceasingly  that  she  was  sent  on  to  the  new  abode. 
Her  first  object  was  now  to  get  somebody  to  interpret  her 
desires.     At  last  her  master  divined  them,  and  started  off 
with  her  to  the  barn.     As  soon  as  they  were  inside,  the  cat 
went  to  the  horse's  stall,  made  herself  a  bed  near  his  head, 


332  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

and  curled  herself  up  contentedly.  When  Mr.  Huntington 
visited  the  pair  next  morning,  there  was  puss  close  to  Nar- 
ragansett's  feet,  with  a  family  of  five  beside  her.  The 
horse  evidently  knew  all  about  it,  and  that  it  behooved 
him  to  take  heed  how  he  moved  his  feet.  Puss  afterward 
would  go  out,  leaving  her  little  ones  to  the  care  of  her 
friend,  who  would  every  now  and  then  look  to  see  how 
they  were  getting  on.  When  these  inspections  took  place 
in  the  mother's  presence,  she  was  not  at  all  uneasy,  al- 
though she  showed  the  greatest  fear  and  anxiety  if  any 
children  or  strangers  intruded  upon  her  privacy. 

4.  A  gentleman  in  Sussex  had  a  cat  which  showed  the 
greatest  affection  for  a  young  blackbird,  which  was  given 
to  her  by  a  stable-boy  for  food  a  day  or  two  after  she  had 
been  deprived  of  her  kittens.      She  tended   it  with  the 
greatest  care  ;  they  became   inseparable  companions,  and 
no  mother  could  show  a  greater  fondness  for  her  offspring 
than  she  did  for  the  bird. 

5.  A  pair  of  carriage-horses  taken  to  water  at  a  stone 
trough,  then  standing  at  one  end  of  the  Manchester  Ex- 
change, were  followed  by  a  dog  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
lying  in  the  stall  of  one  of  them.     As  he  gamboled  on  in 
front,  the  creature  was  suddenly  attacked  by  a  mastiff  far 
too  strong  for  his  power  of  resistance,  and  it  would  have 
gone  hard  with  him  but  for  the  unlooked-for  intervention 
of  his  stable-companion,  which,  breaking  loose  from  the 
man  who  was  leading  it,  made  for  the  battling  dogs,  and 
with  one  well-delivered  kick  sent  the  mastiff  into  a  cooper's 
cellar,  and  then  quietly  returned  to  the  trough  and  finished 
his  drink. 

6.  In  very  sensible  fashion,  too,  did  Mrs.  Eland's  half- 
Danish  dog  Traveler  show  his  affection  for  his  mistress's 
pet  pony.     The  latter  had  been  badly  hurt,  and.  when  well 
enough  to  be  turned  into  a  field,  was  visited  there  by  its 
fair  owner'  and  regaled  with  carrots  and  other  delicacies ; 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  333 

Traveler,  for  his  part,  never  failing  to  fetch  one  or  two 
windfall  apples  from  the  garden,  laying  them  on  the  grass 
before  the  pony,  and  hailing  its  enjoyment  of  them  with  the 
liveliest  demonstrations  of  delight. 

7.  That  such  relations  should  exist  between  the  horse 
and  the  dog  seems  natural  enough  ;  but  that  a  horse  should 
be  hail-fellow  with  a  hen  appears  too  absurd  to  be  true  ; 
yet  we  have  Gilbert  White's  word  for  it  that  a  horse,  lack- 
ing more  suitable  companions,  struck  up  a  great  friendship 
with  a  hen,  and  displayed  immense  gratification  when  she 
rubbed  against  his  legs  and  clucked  a  greeting,  while  he 
moved  about  with  the  greatest  caution  lest  he  might  tram- 
ple on  his  "little,  little  friend." 

8.  Colonel  Montagu  tells  of  a  pointer  which,  after  be- 
ing well  beaten  for  killing  a  Chinese  goose,  was  further 
punished  by  having  the  murdered  bird  tied  to  his  neck — a 
penance  that  entailed  his  being  constantly  attended  by  the 
defunct's  relict.     Whether  he  satisfied  her  that  he  repented 
the  cruel  deed  is  more  than  we  know ;  but  after  a  little 
while  the  pointer  and  the  goose  were  on  the  best  of  terms, 
living  under  the  same  roof,  feeding  out  of  one  trough,  oc- 
cupying the  same  straw  bed  ;  and,  when  the  dog  went  on 
duty  in  the  field,  the  goose  filled  the  air  with  her  lamenta- 
tions for  his  absence. 

9.  A  New  Zealand  paper  says  :    "  There  is  a  dog  at 
Taupo,  and  also  a  young  pig,  and  these  two  afford  a  curious 
example  of  animal  sagacity  and  confidence  in  the  friend- 
ship of  each  other.     These  two  animals  live  at  the  native 
pah  on  the  opposite  side  of  Tapuaeharuru,  and  the  dog 
discovered  some  happy  hunting-grounds  on  the  other  side, 
and  informed  the  pig.     The  pig,  being  only  two  months 
old,  informed  the  dog  that  he  could  not  swim  across  the 
river,  which  at  that  spot  debouches  from  the  lake,  but  that 
in  time  he  hoped  to  share  the  adventures  of  his  canine 
friend.     The  dog  settled  the  difficulty.     He  went  into  the 


334  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

river,  standing  up  to  his  neck  in  water,  and  crouched 
down  ;  the  pig  got  on  his  back,  clasping  his  neck  with  his 
fore  legs.  The  dog  then  swam  across,  thus  carrying  his 
chum  over.  Kegularly  every  morning  the  two  would  in 
this  way  go  across  and  forage  around  Tapuaeharuru,  re- 
turning to  the  pah  at  night ;  and,  if  the  dog  was  ready  to 
go  home  before  the  pig,  he  would  wait  till  his  friend  came 
down  to  be  ferried  over.  The  truth  of  this  story  is  vouched 
for  by  several  who  have  watched  the  movements  of  the 
pair  for  some  weeks  past." 

10.  Frank  Buckland  relates  :  "A  gentleman,  traveling 
through  Mecklenburg,  was  witness  to  a  very  singular  cir- 
cumstance in  a  village  post-house.     After  dinner  the  land- 
lord placed  on  the  floor  a  large  dish  of  soup,  and  gave  a 
loud  whistle.      Immediately  there  came  into  the  room  a 
mastiff,  a  fine  Angora  cat,  an  old  raven,  and  a  remarkably 
large  rat  with  a  bell  about  its  neck.     They  all  four  went 
to  the  dish,  and,  without  disturbing  each  other,  fed  together, 
after  which  the  dog,  cat,  and  rat  lay  before  the  fire,  while 
the  raven  hopped  about  the  room.     The  landlord,  after  ac- 
counting for  the  familiarity  which  existed  among  these  ani- 
mals, informed  his  guest  that  the  rat  was  the  most  useful 
of  the  four,  for  the  noise  he  made  had  completely  freed  the 
house  from  the  other  rats  and  mice  with  which  it  had  pre- 
viously been  infested." 

11.  In  1822  some  white  rats  were  trapped  in  Colonel 
Berkeley's  stables.     Mr.  Samuel  Moss,  of  Cheltenham,  took 
a  fancy  to  a  youngster,  and  determined  to  make  a  pet  of 
him.     He  was  soon  tamed,  and  christened  Scugg.     Then 
he  was  formally  introduced  to  a  rat-killing  terrier,  a  cere- 
mony so  well  understood   by  Flora  that  she  not  only  re- 
frained from  assaulting  the  new-comer,  but  actually  consti- 
tuted herself  his  protectress,  mounting  guard  over  Scugg 
whenever  a  stranger  came  into  the  room,  growling,  snarl- 
ing, and  showing  her  teeth,  until  convinced  he  had  no  evil 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  335 

intentions  toward  her  protege.  These  two  strangely  as- 
sorted friends  lapped  from  the  same  saucer,  played  together 
in  the  garden,  and,  when  Flora  indulged  in  a  snooze  on 
the  rug,  Scugg  ensconced  himself  snugly  between  her  legs. 
He  would  mount  the  dinner-table  and  carry  off  sugar,  pas- 
try, or  cheese,  while  Flora  waited  below  to  share  in  the 
plunder. 

12.  One  day  a  man  brought  Mr.  Moss  another  white  rat, 
while  the  terrier  and  Scugg  were  racing  about  the  room. 
The  stranger  was  shaken  out   of  the  trap,  and  presently 
two  white  rats  were  scampering  across  the  floor,  pursued  by 
Flora.     The  chase  did  not  last  long,  one  of  them  quickly 
falling  a  victim  to  the  terrier's  teeth,  much  to  the  experi- 
mentalist's alarm,  as  his  eyes  could  not  distinguish  one  rat 
from  the  other.     Looking  around,  however,  his  mind  was 
relieved,  for  there  in  his  corner  was  Scugg,   with  Flora 
standing  sentry  before  him — a  position  she  held  until  the 
man  and  the  dead  rat  were  out  of  the  room.     When  his 
master  took  a  wife  to  himself,  a  new  home  was  found  for 
Scugg ;  but  the  poor  fellow  died  within  a  month  of  his  re- 
moval, and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  separation  from 
his  canine  friend  was  the  primary  cause  of  the  rat's  un- 
timely decease. 

13.  Not  long  ago,  an  ailing  lioness  in  the  Dublin  Zo- 
ological Gardens  was  so  tormented  by  the  rats  nibbling  her 
toes  that  a  little  terrier  was  introduced  hxto  the  cage.     His 
entrance  elicited  a  sulky  growl  from  the  invalid  ;  but,  see- 
ing the  visitor  toss  a  rat  in  the  air  and  catch  it  with  a  kill- 
ing snap  as  it  came  down,  she  at  once  came  to  the  sensible 
conclusion  that  the  dog's  acquaintance  was  worth  cultivat- 
ing.    Coaxing  the  terrier  to  her  side,  she  folded  her  paw 
round  him  and  took  him  to  her  breast ;  and  there  he  rested 
every  night  afterward,  ready  to  pounce  upon  any  rat  dar- 
ing to  disturb  the  slumbers  of  the  lioness. 

14.  The  last  time  we  visited  the  lion-house  of  the  Re- 


336  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

gent's  Park  Zoological  Gardens  we  watched  with  no  little 
amusement  the  antics  of  a  dog,  who  was  evidently  quite 
at  home  in  a  cage  occupied, by  a  tiger  and  tigress.  The 
noble  pair  of  beasts  were  reclining  side  by  side,  the  tiger's 
tail  hanging  over  the  side  of  their  couch.  The  dog,  un- 
able to  resist  the  temptation,  laid  hold  of  it  with  his  teeth 
and  pulled  with  a  will ;  and,  spite  of  sundry  gentle  re- 
monstrances on  the  part  of  the  owner  of  the  tail,  persisted 
until  he  elicited  a  very  deep  growl  of  disapproval.  Then 
he  let  go,  sprang  upon  the  tiger's  back,  curled  himself  up, 

and  Went  off  to  sleep.  Chamber^  Journal. 


THE    LION    AND   THE    SPANIEL. 

1.  IN  the  afternoon  our  company  went  again  to  the 
Tower,  to  see  as  well  as  to  hear  the  recent  story  of  the 
great   lion  and    the   little   dog.     They  found    the   place 
thronged,  and  all  were  obliged  to  pay  treble  prices,  on  ac- 
count of  the  unprecedented  novelty  of  the  show ;  so  that 
the  keeper,  in  a  short  space,  acquired  a  little  fortune. 

2.  The  great  cage  in  the  front  was  occupied  by  a  beast 
who,  by  way  of  pre-eminence,  was  called  the  king's  lion ; 
and,  while  he  traversed  the  limits  of  his  straitened  domin- 
ions, he  was  attended  by  a  small  and  very  beautiful  black 
spaniel,  who  frisked  and  gamboled  about  him,  and  at  times 
would  pretend  to  snarl  and  bite  at  him  ;  and  again  the 
noble  animal,  with  an  air  of  fond  complaisance,  would  hold 
down  his  head,  while  the  little  creature  licked  his  formida- 
ble chaps.     Their  history,  as  the  keeper  related,  was  this  : 

3.  It  was  customary  for  all,  who  were  unable  or  un- 
willing to  pay  their  sixpence,  to  bring  a  dog  or  cat  as  an 
oblation   to  the  beast   in  lieu  of  money  to  the  keeper. 
Among  others,  a  fellow  had  caught  up  this  pretty  black 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  337 

spaniel  in  the  streets,  and  he  was  accordingly  thrown  into 
the  cage  of  the  great  lion.  Immediately  the  little  animal 
trembled  and  shivered,  and  crouched,  and  threw  itself  on 
its  back,  and  put  forth  its  tongue,  and  held  up  its  paws,  in 
supplicatory  attitudes,  as  an  acknowledgment  of  superior 
power,  and  praying  for  mercy.  In  the  mean  time  the 
lordly  brute,  instead  of  devouring  it,  beheld  it  with  an  eye 
of  philosophic  inspection.  He  turned  it  over  with  one 
paw,  and  then  turned  it  with  the  other  ;  smelled  of  it,  and 
seemed  desirous  of  courting  a  further  acquaintance. 

4.  The  keeper,  on  seeing  this,  brought  a  large  mess  of 
his  own  family  dinner ;  but  the  lion  kept  aloof  and  refused 
to  eat,  keeping  his  eye  on  the  dog,  and  inviting  him,  as  it 
were,  to  be  his  taster.     At  length,  the  little  animal's  fears 
being  something  abated,  and  his  appetite  quickened  by  the 
smell  of  the  victuals,  he  approached  slowly,  and,  with  trem- 
bling,  ventured  to  eat.     The  lion  then  advanced  gently 
and  began  to  partake,  and  they  finished  their  meal  very 
lovingly  together. 

5.  From  this  day  the  strictest  friendship  commenced  be- 
tween them — a  friendship  consisting  of  all  possible  affection 
and  tenderness  on  the  part  of  the  lion,  and  of  the  utmost 
confidence  and  boldness  on  the  part  of  the  dog  ;  insomuch 
that  he  would  lay  himself  down  to  sleep  within  the  fangs 
and  under  the  jaws  of  his  terrible  patron.     A  gentleman 
who  had  lost  the  spaniel,  and  had  advertised  a  reward  of 
two  guineas  to  the  finder,  at  length  heard  of  the  adventure, 
and  went  to  reclaim  his  dog.    You  see,  sir,  said  the  keeper, 
it  would  be  a  great  pity  to  part  such  loving  friends  ;  how- 
ever, if  you  insist  upon  your  property,  you  must  even  be 
pleased  to  take  him  yourself ;  it  is  a  task  that  I  would  not 
engage  in  for  five  hundred  guineas.     The  gentleman  rose 
into  great  wrath,  but  finally  chose  to  acquiesce  rather  than 
have  a  personal  dispute  with  the  lion. 

6.  As  Mr.  Felton  had  a  curiosity  to  see  the  two  friends 

15 


338  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

eat  together,  lie  sent  for  twenty  pounds  of  beef,  which  was 
accordingly  cut  in  pieces  and  given  into  the  cage ;  when 
immediately  the  little  brute,  whose  appetite  happened  to 
be  eager  at  the  time,  was  desirous  of  making  a  monopoly 
of  the  whole,  and,  putting  his  paws  upon  the  meat,  and 
grumbling  and  barking,  he  audaciously  flew  into  the  face 
of  the  lion.  But  the  generous  creature,  instead  of  being 
offended  with  his  impotent  companion,  started  back,  and 
seemed  terrified  at  the  fury  of  his  attack  ;  neither  attempt- 
ed to  eat  a  bit  till  his  favorite  had  tacitly  given  permission. 
7.  When  they  were  both  gorged,  the  lion  stretched 
and  turned  himself  and  lay  down  in  an  evident  posture 
for  repose,  but  this  his  sportive  companion  would  not  ad- 
mit. He  frisked  and  gamboled  about  him,  barked  at  him, 
would  now  scrape  and  tear  at  his  head  with  his  claws,  and 
again  seize  him  by  the  ear  and  bite  and  pull  away,  while 
the  noble  beast  appeared  affected  by  no  other  sentiment 
save  that  of  pleasure  and  complacence. 

Henry  Brooke. 


HOME    LIFE   OF   SCOTTISH    DEER. 

1.  NEAR  Slui,  on  the  Findhorn,  there  is  a  range  of 
precipices  and  wooded  steeps  crowned  with  pine,  and 
washed  by  the  clear  and  rippling  stream  of  the  river, 
through  which  there  is  an  excellent  ford  very  well  known 
to  the  roe  for  escaping  to  the  woods  when  pressed  by  the 
hounds.  In  this  reach  is  a  remarkable  crag,  a  sheer,  naked, 
even  wall  of  limestone,  lying  in  horizontal  strata,  eighty 
or  ninety  feet  high.  At  the  eastern  extremity  of  this  rock 
there  is  a  great  division,  partly  separated  from  the  main 
curtain  by  a  deep,  woody  slope,  which  dips  into  the  preci- 
pice with  little  more  inclination  from  the  perpendicular 
than  to  admit  of  a  careful  footing.  In  the  face  of  the  di- 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  339 

vided  crag,  the  decomposition  of  the  softer  stone  between 
the  courses  of  the  strata  has  wasted  it  away  into  narrow 
galleries,  which,  passing  behind  the  tall  pillars  of  the  pines 
growing  from  the  rifts  and  ledges,  extend  along  the  face  of 
the  precipice,  veiled  by  a  deep  tapestry  of  ivy,  which  spreads 
over  the  mighty  wall  of  rock  and  hangs  from  shelf  to  shelf 
over  the  covered  ways. 

2.  Beyond  the  crags,  the  bank  of  the  forest,  an  abrupt 
steep,  covered  with  oak  and  copsewood,  slopes  down  to  the 
river,  its  brow  darkened  with  a  deep-blue  cloud  of  pines, 
and  its  descent  carpeted  with  moss,  primroses,  and  pyrolas, 
here  and  there  hollowed  into  quaint  "cuachs,"  filled  with 
hazels,  thorns,  and  giant  pines.    Along  this  woody  scarp,  and 
through  its  thick  copse,  the  roe  had  made  narrow  galleries, 
which  communicated  with  the  ivy  corridors  on  the  face  of 
the  crag,  to  which  there  were  corresponding  ways  upon  the 
opposite  side.      In  that  fortress  of  the  rock,  for  shelter 
from  the  sun  and  flies,  and  seclusion  from  the  stir  of  the 
world  during  the  day  in  the  heat  of  summer,  the  red  deer 
and  roe  made  their  secret  haunt,  concealed  behind  the  deep, 
dim  veil  of  leaves,  unseen  and  unsuspected  in  the  cool  hol- 
lows of  the  cliff.      The  prying  eye  might  search  the  crag 
from  below,  and  the  beaters  or  the  woodmen  might  whistle 
and  whoop   and  shout  above,  but  nothing  appeared  or 
moved  except  the  gray  falcon,  which  rose  channering  out  of 
the  rifts. 

3.  Above  the  crag  the  wooded  bank  was  so  abrupt  that  to 
the  front  view  there  was  no  indication  of  a  slope,  and  any 
one  who  passed  quickly  over  the  brow  was  immediately  out 
of  sight.     At  each  descent  beyond  the  extremities  of  the 
whole  range  of  rocks  there  was  a  common  roe's  run  and 
pass,  which  was  supposed  to  be  "deadly  sure"  if  the  deer 
took  the  path,  since  the  precipice  below  was  believed  to  be 
an  infallible  barrier  against  any  intermediate  escape.    Often, 
however,  when  pressed  upon  the  terrace  above,  the  deer 


340  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

neither  went  through  the  passes  nor  turned  against  the 
beaters,  but  vanished  as  if  by  magic — nobody  could  tell 
where  ;  and  it  was  the  common  opinion  of  the  drivers  and 
fishermen  that,  when  forced  near  the  river,  they  threw 
themselves  over  the  crags  "for  spite."  The  truth  was  that 
those  which  disappeared  dashed  down  the  sudden  dip  of 
the  bank  between  the  precipices,  and,  turning  through  the 
ivy  corridors,  went  out  through  the  copse-galleries  upon 
the  other  side,  and  either  descended  to  the  water  or  skirt- 
ed below  the  pass,  and  went  back  into  the  forest. 

4.  In  the  same  mysterious  passages  which  gave  conceal- 
ment and  escape  to  the  stags  and  bucks  the  does  were  used 
to  lie  with  their  fawns,  and  from  thence  at  morning  and 
evening  they  brought  them  out  to  pluck  the  tender  grass 
upon  the  green  banks  beyond.    Often  from  the  brow  above, 
or  from  behind  the  ivy  screen,  we  have  watched  their  "  red 
garment "  stealing  through  the  boughs,  followed  by  the  lit- 
tle pair  drawing  their  slender  legs  daintily  through  the  wet 
dew,  and  turning  their  large  velvet  ears  to  catch  every  pass- 
ing sound  upon  the  breeze  as  it  brought  the  hum  of  the 
water,  or  the  crow  of  the  distant  cock — now  trotting  be- 
fore, now  lingering  behind  their  dam,  now  nestling  together, 
now  starting  off  as  the  gale  suddenly  rustled  the  leaves 
behind  them — then  listening  and  reuniting  in  a  timorous 
plump,  pricking  their  ears  and  bobbing  their  little  black 
noses  in  the  wind — then,  as  the  doe  dropped  on  her  knees 
in  the  moss,  and  laid  her  side  on  the  warm  spot  where  the 
morning  sun  glanced  in  through  the  branches,  they  gam- 
boled about  her,  leaping  over  her  back,  and  running  round 
in  little  circles,  uttering  that  soft,  wild,  plaintive  cry  like 
the  treble  note  of  an  accordion,  till,  weary  of  their  sport, 
they  lay  down  at  her  side  and  slept  while  she  watched  as 
only  a  mother  can. 

5.  No  marvel  it  was  that  they  loved  that  safe  and  fair 
retreat,  with  all  its  songs  and  flowers,  its  plenty  and  repose. 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  341 

All  around  was  sweet  and  beautiful  and  abundant,  such 
as  the  poetical  imagination  of  the  painter  can  rarely  com- 
pose, and  never  unless,  like  Salvator,  he  has  lived  in  the 
wilderness  with  its  free  denizens.  Upon  the  summit  above 
the  crag  there  was  a  broad  and  verdant  terrace  surrounded 
by  ivied  pines  and  feathering  birches,  and  upon  a  little 
green  glade  in  the  midst  grew  two  of  the  most  beautiful 
objects  ever  produced  by  art  or  nature.  These  were  a  pair 
of  twin  thorns  exactly  similar  in  size,  age,  and  form,  and 
standing  about  three  yards  from  each  other,  their  stems  as 
straight  as  shafts,  and  their  round  and  even  heads  like  vast 
bushes  of  wild  thyme,  but  each  so  overgrown  with  ivy  and 
woodbine  that  their  slender  trunks  appeared  like  fretted 
columns,  over  which  the  thorny  foliage  served  as  a  trellis 
to  suspend  the  heavy  plumes  of  the  ivy  and  the  golden  tas- 
sels of  the  woodbine.  Many  a  "ladye's  bower"  we  have 
seen,  and  many  a  rich  and  costly  plant  reared  by  the  care 
of  man,  but  none  so  beautiful  as  those  lonely  sisters  of  the 
forest,  planted  by  His  hand  in  His  great  garden,  where 
none  beheld  but  those  for  whom  He  made  it  lovely — the 
ravens  of  the  rock,  the  deer  who  couched  under  its  shade 
by  night,  and  the  birds  who  sang  their  matins  and  their 
even-song  out  of  its  sweet  boughs. 

6.  In  these  lonely  thickets  the  doe  secretes  her  young, 
and  covers  them  so   carefully  that  they  are  very  rarely 
found.     There  was  a  solitary  doe  that  I  had  frequently 
seen  on  the  hillside,  but  I  was  careful  not  to  disturb  her 
haunt.     Accordingly,  when  at  evening  and  morning  she 
came  out  to  pick  the  sweet  herbs  at  the  foot  of  the  brae, 
or  by  the  little  green  well  in  its  face,  I  trod  softly  out  of 
her  sight,  and,  if  I  passed  at  noon,  made  a  circuit  from 
the  black  willows  and  thick  junipers  where  she  reposed 
during  the  heat  of  the  day. 

7.  One  fine   sunny  morning  I  saw  her  come  tripping 
out  from  her  bower  of  young  birches  as  light  as  a  fairy, 


34:2  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

and  very  gay  and  canty.  For  various  mornings  afterward 
I  saw  her  on  the  bank,  but  she  was  always  restless  and 
anxious,  listening  and  searching  the  wind,  trotting  up  and 
down,  picking  a  leaf  here  and  a  leaf  there  ;  and,  after  her 
short  and  unsettled  meal,  she  would  take  a  frisk,  round 
leap  into  the  air,  and  dart  down  into  her  secret  bower  and 
appear  no  more  until  the  twilight.  In  a  few  days,  how- 
ever, her  excursions  became  a  little  more  extended,  gener- 
ally to  the  terrace  above  the  bank,  but  never  out  of  sight 
of  the  thicket  below. 

8.  At  length  she  ventured  to  a  greater  distance,  and 
one  day  I  stole  down  the  brae  among  the  birches.     In  the 
middle  of  the  thicket  there  was  a  group  of  young  trees 
growing  out  of  a  carpet  of  deep  moss  which  yielded  like  a 
down  pillow.     The  prints  of  the  doe's  slender,  forked  feet 
were  thickly  tracked  about  the  hollow,  and  in  the  center 
there  was  a  bed  of  the  velvet  "  fog,"  which  seemed  a  little 
higher  than  the  rest,  but  so  natural  that  it  would  not  have 
been  noticed  by  any  unaccustomed  eye.     I  carefully  lifted 
the  green  cushion,  and  under  its  veil,  rolled  close  together, 
the  head  of  each  resting  upon  the  flank  of  the  other,  nestled 
two  beautiful    little  fawns,   their  large   velvet  ears  laid 
smooth  on  their  dappled  necks,  their  spotted  sides  sleek 
and  shining  as  satin,  and  their  little,  delicate  legs  as  slender 
as  hazel  wands,  shod  with  tiny,  glossy  shoes,  as  smooth  and 
black  as  ebony,  while  their  large,  dark  eyes  looked  at  me 
out  of  the  corners  with  a  full,  mild,  quiet  gaze,  which  had 
not  yet  learned  to  fear  the  hand  of  man  ;  still,  they  had  a 
nameless  doubt  which  followed  every  motion  of  mine,  their 
little  limbs  shrank  from  my  touch,  and  their  velvet  fur  rose 
and  fell  quickly ;  but  as  I  was  about  to  replace  the  moss, 
one  turned  its  head,  lifted  its  sleek  ears  toward  me,  and 
licked  my  hand  as  I  laid  their  soft  mantle  over  them. 

9.  I  often  saw  them  afterward  when  they  grew  strong, 
and  came  abroad  upon  the  brae,  and  frequently  called  off 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  343 

old  Dreadnought  when  he  crossed  their  warm  track.  Upon 
these  occasions  he  would  stand  and  look  at  me  in  wonder, 
turn  his  head  from  side  to  side,  sniff  the  ground  again  to 
see  if  it  was  possible  that  he  could  be  mistaken,  and,  when 
he  found  that  there  was  no  disputing  the  scent,  cock  one 
ear  at  me  with  a  keener  inquiry,  and,  seeing  that  I  was  in 
earnest,  trot  heavily  onward  with  a  sigh. 

Charles  Edward  Stuart. 


DEER-STALKING    IN   THE    SCOTTISH    HIGHLANDS. 

1.  ONE  beautiful  day  in  early  September  the  old 
keeper  MacLellan  and  I  started  for  a  day's  sport  in  the 
hills.  After  about  an  hour's  stalking  we  came  upon  the 
shoulder  of  a  long  slope,  which  looks  into  the  gorges  of 
two  or  three  short  glens,  opening  to  a  narrow  plain,  on 
which  we  saw  a  noble  sight — a  herd  of  four  or  five  hundred 
deer,  among  which  were  many  fine  stags.  After  having 
feasted  my  eyes  with  this  splendid  sight — the  illustrious 
cavalry  of  the  hill,  the  crowned  and  regal  array  of  the  wil- 
derness— I  began  to  calculate  how  to  make  the  approach, 
how  to  slip  between  the  chain  of  vedette  hinds  and  numer- 
ous pickets  of  small  stags  which  commanded  almost  every 
knoll  and  hollow.  In  the  center  of  the  main  body,  with  a 
large  plump  of  hinds — which  he  herded  within  a  wide 
vacant  circle — there  was  a  mighty  black  hart,  with  a  head 
like  a  blasted  pine,  and  a  cluster  of  points  in  each  crown. 
Though  each  stag  of  the  surrounding  circle  had  not  less 
than  ten  points,  there  was  none  which  approached  his 
size,  and  they  all  kept  at  a  respectful  distance,  while  he 
marched  round  and  round  the  central  group  of  hinds. 
"  He  will  have  them  all  in  the  ring  before  long,"  said  Mac- 
Lellan ;  "  yon's  one  of  the  old  heroes  ;  he  has  not  been  four- 


344:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

and-twenty  hours  in  the  forest. "  I  looked  with  an  eager 
and  longing  eye  at  his  gigantic  stature,  but  there  was  no 
apparent  possibility  of  approaching  even  the  outward  circle 
of  stags. 

2.  The  herd  was  scattered  over  all  the  ground  between 
the  hills,  and  every  little  knoll  and  eminence  had  its  rest- 
less pickets,  and  plumps  of  discomfited  stags,  which  had 
been  beaten  by  the  great  hart,  and  were  chafing  about,  driv- 
ing off  and  prodding  the  buttocks  of  all  the  inferior  stags 
that  came  in  their  way,  then  returning  and  staring  with 
jealous  disgust  at  the  mighty  stranger,  who  gave  them  no 
notice,  except  when  one   or  two  more  audacious,  or  less 
severely  beaten,  made  a  few  steps  before  his  companions, 
upon  which   he  immediately  charged,  drove  them  before 
him,  and  scattered  the  nearest  in  every  direction.     Upon 
these  occasions  some  hind  of  greater  levity  than  the  rest 
took  the  opportunity  of  extending  her  pasture,  or  paying 
her  compliments  to  her  companions,  for  which  she  imme- 
diately received  a  good  prod  in  the  haunch,  and  was  turned 
back  again  into  the  center. 

3.  "  There  is  no  doing  anything  there,"  said  I.     "  'Deed 
no,"  replied  MacLellan,  shutting  up  his  glass,  "we  be  to 
go  down  to  the  foot  of  the  burn."     This  was  a  stream 
which  runs  through  the  middle  of  the  narrow  plain  and 
empties  itself  into  the  Fidich,  about  four  miles  below,  at 
the  east  end  of  the  forest.     Before  resolving  upon  this,  how- 
ever, we  made  an  attempt  to  cross  the  little  glen  to  the 
northwest ;  but,  after  passing  round  one  hill,  and  nearly 
to  the  top  of  another,  we  fell  in  with  a  small  herd  of  insig- 
nificant stags,  but  none  among  them  being  worth  the  dis- 
turbance of  the  great  herd  ;  and,  being  unable  to  pass  them 
unobserved,  we  were  obliged  to  adopt  the  last  alternative 
and  descend  to  the  Fidich.     In  about  an  hour  and  a  half 
we  performed  this  retrogration,  and,  having  crossed  at  the 
forester's  house,  ascended  the  burn  till  we  again  approached 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  345 

the  deer,  and,  stealing  from  knoll  to  knoll,  again  came  in 
sight  of  the  herd.  The  outskirts  of  its  wide  circle  had  been 
much  broken  and  deranged  by  the  jousts  and  expulsions 
during  our  absence  ;  and  we  saw  that  it  was  impossible  to 
get  near  the  better  stags  without  taking  the  channel  of  the 
stream. 

4.  We  immediately  descended  into  the  water  and  crept 
up  the  middle,  sometimes  compelled  to  crouch  so  low  that 
the  pools  reached  our  hips,  and,  as  the  stones  were  round 
and  slippery,  it  was  very  difficult  to  proceed  without  floun- 
dering and  splashing.     At  length,  however,  we  were  with- 
in the  circle  of  the  deer  ;  there  was  not  a  breath  of  wind, 
and  the  least  sound  was  audible  in  the  profound  stillness. 
We  slipped  through  the  water  like  eels,  till  we  came  to  a 
little  rock,  which,  crossing  the  burn,  made  a  shelving  fall, 
which  there  was  no  means  of  passing  but  by  drawing  our- 
selves up  the  shoot  of  the  stream.     With  some  difficulty  I 
pushed  my  rifle  before  me  along  the  edge  of  the  bank,  and 
then,  while  the  water  ran  down  our  breasts,  we  glided  up 
through  the  gush  of  the  stream  and  reached  the  ledge 
above. 

5.  The  return  of  the  water,  which  I  had  obstructed, 
made,  however,  a  rush  and  plash  different  from  its  accus- 
tomed monotonous  hum,  and  I  had  scarce  time  to  lay  flat 
in  the  burn  when  a  hind  sprang  up  within  a  few  yards 
and  trotted  briskly  away,  then  another^  and  another.     I 
thought  that  all  was  over,  and  that,  in  the  next  moment, 
we  should  hear  all  the  clattering  hoofs  going  over  the  turf 
like  a  squadron  of  cavalry.     All  remained  still,  however, 
and,  in  a  few  seconds,  I  saw  the  first  hind  wheel  about  and 
look  back  steadily  toward  the  fall.     I  was  rejoiced  to  ob- 
serve that  she  had  not  seen  us,  and  had  only  been  disturbed 
by  the  unusual  sound  of  the  water.     She  continued,  how- 
ever, anxious  and  suspicious  ;  watched  and  listened  ;  picked 
off  the  tops  of  the  heather  ;  then  walked  on,  with  her  ears 


34:6  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

laid  back,  and  her  neck  and  step  stilting  away  as  stiff  as  if 
she  had  been  hung  up  in  the  larder  for  a  week.  This, 
however,  was  not  the  worst ;  all  the  surrounding  hinds 
which  noticed  her  gait  gathered  here  and  there,  and  stood 
on  the  tops  of  the  little  knolls,  like  statues,  as  straight  as 
pucks,  with  nothing  visible  but  their  narrow  necks  and  two 
peg-legs,  and  their  broad  ears  perked  immovably  toward 
us,  like  long-eared  bats. 

6.  MacLellan  gave  me  a  rueful  look.     "Never  mind," 
said  I,  "we  shall  see  who  will  be  tired  first."    The  for- 
ester gave  a  glance  of  satisfaction,  slid  up  his  glass  on  the 
dry  bank,  and  we  lay  still  as  the  stones  around  us,  till  the 
little  trouts,  which  had  been  disturbed  by  our  convulsion, 
became  so  accustomed    to  our    shapes  that    they  again 
emerged  from  under  the  flat  pebbles  and  returned  to  their 
station  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  skulking  their  little 
tails  between  my  legs  with  no  more  concern  than  if  I  had 
been  a  forked  tree.     At  length  the  immobility  of  the  hinds 
began  to  give  way  :   first  one  ear  turned  back,  then  an- 
other, then  they  became  sensible  of  the  flies,  and  began  to 
flirt  and  jerk  as  usual,  and  finally  one  applied  her  slender 
toe  to  her  ear,  and  another  rubbed  her  velvet  nose  upon  her 
knee  ;  it  was  more  than  half  an  hour,  however,  before,  one 
by  one,  they  began  to  steal  away,  perking  and  snuffing,  and 
turning  to  gaze  at  the  least  air  that  whiffed  about  them. 

7.  At  length  they  all   disappeared  except  one  gray, 
lean,  haggard  old  grandmother  of  hinds,  who  had  no  teeth, 
and  limped  with  one  leg,  probably  from  a  wound  which  she 
received  fifty  or  perhaps  a  hundred  years  before  I  was  born. 
Her  vigilance,  however,  was  only  sharpened  by  age  ;  time, 
and  the  experience  of  many  generations,  had  made  her 
acquainted  with  all  the  wiles  and  crafts  of  the  hill ;  her 
eyes  and  ears  were  as  active  as  a  kid's,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
she  could  smell  like  Tobit's  devil.     MacLellan  looked  at 
her  through  his  glass,   spit  into    the  burn,   and  grinned 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  347 

against  the  sun — as  if  he  was  lying  in  the  bilboes  instead 
of  cold  water.  The  old  sorceress  continued  to  watch  us 
without  relaxation,  and  at  last  lay  down  on  the  brow  of 
the  knoll  and  employed  her  rumination  in  obstinate  con- 
templation of  the  bank  under  which  we  were  ambushed. 

8.  There  was  now  no  alternative  but  to  recommence  our 
progress  up  the  burn  ;  and,  as  I  was  determined  to  circum- 
vent the  hind,  I  prepared  for  every  inconvenience  which 
could  be  inflicted  by  the  opposite  vexations  of  a  sharp, 
rough,  slippery,  and  gravelly  stream.     Fortunately,  at  the 
place  where  we  then  were,  it  was  so  narrow  that  we  could 
hold  by  the  heather  on  both  sides,  and  thus  drag  ourselves 
forward  through  the  water,  between  each  of  which  advances 
I  pushed  my  rifle  on  before  me.     In  this  manner  we  reached 
the  turn  of  the  brook,  where  I  concluded  that  we  should 
be  round  the  shoulder  of  the  knoll  and  out  of  sight  of  the 
hind,  who  lay  upon  its  east  brow.     This  was  effected  so 
successfully  that,  when  we  looked  behind,  we  only  saw  her 
back,  and  her  head  and  ears  still  pointing  at  the  spot 
which  we  had  left. 

9.  One  hundred  yards  more  would  bring  us  within 
sight  of  the  great  hart.     The  general  position  of  the  herd 
had  not  changed,  and  I  hoped  to  find  him  near  the  central 
knoll  of  the  flat,  at  the  base  of  which  the  burn  circled. 
We  were  almost  surrounded  by  deer  ;  but  the  greater  num- 
ber were  small,  vigilant  hinds,  the  abomination  and  curse 
of  a  stalker.     At  length,  however,  we  reached  the  knoll, 
and  rested  to  take  breath  at  its  foot.     I  examined  my  rifle, 
to  see  that  the  lock  was  clean  and  dry.     We  took  a  view  of 
all  around  us,  and,  drawing  ourselves  cautiously  out  of  the 
burn,  slid  up  through  the  heather  on  the  south  side  of  the 
eminence.      Scarce,   however,   had    our  legs  cleared  the 
stream  when  we  discovered  a  pair  of  ears  not  above  fifteen 
yards  from  the  other  side.     "My  curse  upon  you,"  whis- 
pered MacLellan.     She  had  not  discovered  us,  however, 


34:8  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

and  we  glided  round  the  base  of  the  knoll — but  on  the 
other  side  lay  three  hinds  and  a  calf,  and  I  could  see  no 
trace  of  the  great  hart. 

10.  On  the   edge  of  the   burn,   however,  farther  up, 
there  were  five  very  good  stags,  and  a  herd  of  about  thirty 
deer,  on  the  slope  of  the  north  brae.     All  round  us  the 
ground  was  covered  with  hinds,  for  the  prevalence  of  the 
westerly  wind  during  the  last  few  days  had  drawn  the 
deer  to  that  end  of  the  forest.     Upon  the  spot  where  I  lay, 
though  I  could  only  see  a  portion  of  the  field,  I  counted 
four  hundred  and  seventy ;    and  it  was  evident  that  no 
movement  could  be  made  upon  that  side.     "We  tried  again 
the  opposite  side  of  the  knoll ;  the  hind  which  we  had  first 
seen  was  still  in  the  same  place,  but  she  had  lain  down  her 
head,  and  showed  only  the  gray  line  of  her  back  over  the 
heather.     We  drew  ourselves  cautiously  up  the  slope  and 
looked  over  the  summit.     On  the  other  side  there  was  a 
small,  flat  moss,  about  seventy  yards  in  breadth  ;  then  an- 
other hillock ;  and  to  the  left  two  more,  with  little  levels, 
and  wet,  grassy  hollows  between  them.     Upon  the  side  of 
the  first  knoll  there  were  two  young  stags  and  some  hinds  ; 
but  the  points  of  some  good  horns  showed  above  the  crest. 
The  intervening  ground  was  spotted  with  straggling  hinds, 
and  we  might  lay  where  we  were  till  to-morrow  morning 
without  a  chance  of  getting  near  any  of  the  good  deer. 

11.  While  we  deliberated,  MacLellan  thought  that,  by 
crawling  with  extreme  caution  up  a  wet  hollow  to  the  left, 
we  might  have  a  chance  to  approach  the  stags  whose  horns 
we  had  seen  behind  the  other  knoll,  and,  as  nothing  better 
could  be  done,  we  decided  upon  this  attempt.     The  sun 
was  going  down  from  the  old  towers  of  Auchandiin,  and 
we  had  no  more  time  than  would  give  light  for  this  ven- 
ture.    We  slid  away  toward  the  hollow,  and,  drawing  our- 
selves inch  by  inch  through  the  heather  and  tall,  thin  grass, 
had  reached  the  middle  of  the  level  between  the  hillocks, 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS. 


349 


when  we  heard  a  stamp  and  a  short  grunt  close  beside  us. 
I  had  scarce  time  to  turn  my  head  and  catch  a  glimpse  of 
a  base  little  gray  hind,  who,  in  crossing  the  hollow,  had 
stumbled  upon  us.  It  was  but  a  moment ;  a  rapid  wheel 


The  Stag. 

and  rush  through  the  long  grass,  and  I  heard  the  career  of 
a  hundred  feet  going  through  the  hollow.  I  sprang  on 
my  knee,  and  scare  a  dozen  small  stags  and  hinds  which 
came  upon  us  at  full  speed  ;  for  those  behind,  not  knowing 


350  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

from  whence  came  the  alarm,  made  straight  for  the  hill. 
The  herd  was  now  gathering  in  all  directions,  charging, 
flying,  reuniting,  dispersing,  and  reassembling  in  utter 
disorder,  like  a  rout  of  cavalry. 

12.  I  made  a  run  for  the  middle  knoll ;  two  stags  with 
pretty  good  heads  met  me  right  in  the  face.     I  did  not 
stop  to  look  at  them,  but  rushed  up  the  brae.     What  a 
sight  was  seen  from  its  top  !     Upward  of  six  hundred  deer 
were  charging  past,  before,  behind,  around,  in  all  directions. 
The  stately  figure  which  I  sought,  the  mighty  black  hart, 
was  slowly  ascending  an  eminence  about  three  hundred 
yards  off,  from  whence  he  reconnoitered  the  ground  below, 
while  the  disarray  of  stags  and  hinds  gathered  round  him, 
like  rallying  masses  of  hussars  in  the  rear  of  a  supporting 
column.     I  was  so  intent  looking  upon  the  king  of  the  for- 
est that  I  saw  nothing  else.     No  other  heads,  forms,  num- 
bers, took  any  place  in  my  senses  ;  all  my  faculties  were  on 
the  summit  of  that  height. 

13.  At  this  moment  I  felt  my  kilt  drawn  gently ;    I 
took  no  notice,   but  a  more  decided  pull  made  me  look 
round.     MacLellan  motioned  up  the  slope,  and  I  saw  the 
points  of  a  good  head  passing  behind  a  little  ridge,  about 
eighty  yards  away.     I  looked  back  at  the  hart ;   he  was 
just  moving  to  the  hill.     What  would  I  have  given  to  have 
diminished  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  the  distance  which 
divided  us  !    He  passed  slowly  down  the  back  of  the  emi- 
nence and  disappeared,  and  the  gathering  herd  streamed 
after  him.     The  stag  whose  horns  I  had  seen  had  come  out 
from  behind  the  ridge,  and  stood  with  his  broad  side  toward 
me,  gazing  at  the  herd ;  but  as  they  moved  away  he  now 
began  to  follow.     The  disappearance  of  the  great  hart  and 
the  disappointment  of  MacLellan  recalled  me  to  the  last 
chance.      I  followed  the  retreating  stag  with   my  rifle, 
passed  it  before  his  shoulder,  whiz  went  the  two-ounce  ball, 
and  he  rolled  over  headlong  in  the  heath,  on  the  other  side 


OUR  FOUR-FOOTED  NEIGHBORS.  351 

of  the  knoll,  which  the  next  stretch  would  have  placed  be- 
tween us. 

14.  I  looked  to  the  hill  above.  The  whole  herd  was 
streaming  up  the  long,  green  hollow  in  its  west  shoulder, 
headed  "  by  the  mighty  of  the  desert."  They  rounded  and 
passed  the  brow,  and  sloped  upward  on  the  other  side,  till 
the  forest  of  heads  appeared  bristling  along  the  sky-line  of 
the  summit.  In  a  few  moments  afterward,  as  the  sun  was 
going  down  upon  the  far  western  hills  of  Loch  Duiach, 
the  terrible  wide-forked  tree  came  out  in  the  clear  eastern 
sky  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  and,  crowding  after,  at  least  two 
hundred  heads  —  crossing  and  charging  and  mingling — 
their  polished  points  flashing  in  the  parting  sunbeams,  and 
from  many  a  horn  the  long  streamers  of  the  moss  flutter- 
ing and  flying  like  the  pennons  and  banderoles  of  lances. 
The  herd  continued  to  file  along  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  and, 
wheeling  below  the  crest,  countermarched  along  the  sky- 
line till  their  heads  and  horns  slowly  decreased  against  the 

Charles  Edward  Stuart. 


PART  XIII. 
STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND    THEIR    WAYS. 


MUSICAL   MICE. 

1.  IN  this  country  we  have  several  species  of  wood-mice, 
often  called  white-footed  mice,  that  have  wonderful  musi- 
cal powers.     They  are  diminutive  things,  not  so  large  as 
the  house-mouse,  their  sides  are  yellowish-brown,  the  back 
considerably  darker,  the  abdomen  and  feet  almost  snowy- 
white.     Their  home  is  the  woods.     With  but  little  sympa- 
thy for  man,  they  will  occasionally  intrude  for  a  time  into 
his  dwelling,  when,  as  I  believe,  the  domestic  mouse  with- 
draws.    A  friend  of  mine  at  his  Florida  home,  near  St. 
Augustine,  was  disturbed  at  night  by  what  he  supposed 
to  be  the  chirping  of  birds  in  the  chimney.     The  mystery 
was  cleared  up  in  an  unexpected  way.     A  very  small  mouse 
came  up  from  a  crevice  in  the  hearth,  and,  with  singular 
boldness,  took  position  in  the  middle  of  the  sitting-room 
floor.     Here  it  sat  up  on  its  hind  feet,  and  looked  around 
with  the  utmost  confidence,  all  the  time  singing  in  a  low, 
soft,  yet  really  warbling  style. 

2.  It  paid  the  penalty  of  its  temerity  by  being  captured. 
About  a  month  after,  this  prodigy  was  intrusted  to  the 
custody  of  the  writer.     Of  course,  it  came  introduced  as  a 
"singing  house-mouse."    What  was  our  astonishment  at 
recognizing  in  the  little  stranger  a  true  Hesperomys,  and 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND  THEIR   WATS.       353 

no  house-mouse  at  all !  It  was  one  of  the  wood -mice,  and 
among  the  smallest  of  the  species.  It  is  a  female,  and 
fully  grown,  yet  not  so  large  as  a  domestic  mouse.  Every 
pains  was  taken  to  secure  the  comfort  and  well-being  of  my 
little  guest. 

3.  And  what  an  ample  reward  I  reaped  !     For  a  con- 
siderable time  she  caroled  almost  incessantly,  except  when 
she  slept.     Day  and  night  she  rollicked  in  tiny  song,  her 
best  performances  being  usually  at  night.     To  me  it  was 
often  a  strange  delight  when,  having  wrought  into  the 
late  hours,  and  the  weary  brain  had  become  so  needful  and 
yet  so  repellent  of  sleep,  I  lay  down,  and  gave  myself  up 
to  listening  to  this  wee  songster,  whose  little  cage  I  had  set 
on  a  chair  by  my  bedside.     To  be  sure,  it  was  a  low,  very 
low,  sweet  voice.     But  there  was,  with  a  singular  weird- 
ness,  something  so  sweetly  merry  that  I  would  listen  on, 
and  on,  until  I  would  fall  asleep  in  the  lullaby  of  my  wing- 
less and  quadrupedal  bob-o'-link. 

4.  The  cage  had  a  revolving  cylinder  or  wheel,  such  as 
tame  squirrels  have.     In  this  it  would  run  for  many  min- 
utes at  a  time,  singing  at  its  utmost  strength.     This  re- 
volving cage,  although  ample  as  regards  room,   was  not 
over  three  and  a  half  inches  long  and  two  and  a  half  inches 
wide.     Although  I  have  now  been  entertained  by  these 
pretty  little  melodies  for  a  year,  yet  I  would  not  dare  rede- 
scribe  them.     She  had  two  especially  notable  performances. 
I  called  these  roles — one  the  wheel-song)  because  it  was  usu- 
ally sung  while  in  the  revolving  cylinder,  and  the  other  the 
grand  role.     A  remarkable  fact  in  the  latter  is  the  scope  of 
the  little  creature's  musical  powers.     Her  soft,  clear  voice 
falls  an  octave  with  all  the  precision  possible ;  then,  at  its 
wind-up,  it  rises  again  into  a  very  quick  trill  on  C  sharp 
and  D. 

5.  Though  it  be  at  the  risk  of  taxing  belief,  yet  I  must 
in  duty  record  one  of  Hespie's  most  remarkable  perform- 


354:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

ances.  She  was  gamboling  in  the  large  compartment  of 
her  cage,  in  intense  animal  enjoyment.  She  had  just  woke 
from  a  long  sleep,  and  had  eaten  of  some  favorite  food, 
when  she  burst  into  a  fullness  of  song  very  rich  in  its  variety. 
While  running  and  jumping,  she  caroled  off  what  I  have 
called  her  grand  role  ;  then,  sitting,  she  went  over  it  again, 
ringing  out  the  strangest  diversity  of  changes,  by  an  almost 
whimsical  transposition  of  the  bars  of  the  melody ;  then, 
without,  for  even  an  instant,  stopping  the  music,  she  leaped 
into  the  wheel,  sent  it  revolving  at  its  highest  speed,  and, 
while  thus  running  in  the  wheel,  she  went  through  the 
wheel-song  in  exquisite  style,  giving  several  repetitions  of 
it.  After  this,  without  at  all  arresting  the  singing,  she 
returned  to  the  large  compartment,  sat  upright,  resumed 
again  the  grand  role,  and  put  into  it  some  variations  which 
astonished  me. 

6.  One  measure,  I  remember,  was  so  silvery  and  soft 
that  I  said  to  a  lady  who  was  listening,  that  a  canary  able 
to  execute  that  strain  would  be  almost  beyond  price.  I 
occasionally  detected,  what  I  am  utterly  unable  to  explain, 
a  literal  dual  sound,  a  sort  of  rollicking  chuckling,  very 
like  a  boy  whistling  as  he  runs,  and  drawing  a  stick  along 
the  pickets  of  a  fence.  So  the  music  went  on,  as  I  listened, 
watch  in  hand,  until  actually  nine  minutes  had  elapsed. 
Now,  the  wonderful  fact  is,  that  the  rest  between  the  roles 
was  never  much  more  than  a  second  of  time  ;  and  during 
all  this  singing  the  muscles  could  be  seen  in  vigorous 
action  through  the  entire  length  of  the  abdomen.  This 
feat  would  be  impossible  to  a  professional  singer  ;  and  the 
nearest  to  it  that  I  have  heard  was  the  singing  of  the  wild 
mocking-bird  in  a  grove.  ^  Samuel 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR    WATS.       355 


BATS   AND  THEIR    HABITS. 

1.  EXCEPTING  the  colder  regions,  all  parts  of  the  world 
are  inhabited  by  bats.     There  are  many  kinds,  and  they 
often  occur  in  very  large   numbers.     Probably  there  are 
very  few  persons,  young  or  old,  who  have  not  seen  a  bat. 
Yet,  aside  from  professed  naturalists,  it  is  equally  probable 
that  there  are  still  fewer  who,  from  direct  observation, 
could  give  any  accurate  description  of  their  appearance  or 
their  habits,  their  structure,  or  their  relations  with  the 
"birds  of  the  air,"  or  the  "  beasts  of  the  earth,"  to  both  of 
which  bats  bear  more  or  less  resemblance. 

2.  Nor  is  this  strange  ;  for  bats  pass  the  day  in  caves 
and  deserted  buildings,  and  fly  about  in  pursuit  of  prey 
only  in  the  twilight.     Much  less  rapid  than  that  of  birds, 
their  flight  is  so  irregular  as  to  render  it  difficult  to  follow 
their  course,  and  in  the  dusk  they  are  often  mistaken  for 
somewhat  eccentric  members  of  the  swallow  family. 

3.  Their  very  aspect  is  repulsive ;  they  often  emit  an 
unpleasant  odor.     When  taken,  they  bite  so  fiercely  that 
we  may  be  thankful  that  they  are  no  larger,  and  that,  as 
a  rule,  they  prefer  insects  to  human  beings  as  food.     No 
tiger  could  be  more  violent  in  its  demonstrations  or  more 
capable  of  using  its  only  weapons,  the  sharp,  almost  needle- 
like  eye-teeth. 

4.  We  may  as  well  state  at  once  that  a  bat  is  really  a 
mammal  ;  that  is,  it  agrees  with  moles,  rats,  sheep,  horses, 
cats,  monkeys,  and  men,  in  bringing  forth  its  young  alive, 
and  nursing  them  by  milk  ;  in  having  red  blood-corpus- 
cles, which  contain  no  nucleus ;  in  being  clothed  with  hair ; 
and  in  possessing  a  corpus  callosum- — that  is,  a  band  of  fibers 
connecting  the  two  cerebral  hemispheres.     There  are  other 
anatomical  features  which  link  the  bats  closely  with  the 
moles  and  shrews  and  hedgehogs.     Indeed,  the  bat  might 


356  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

be  described  as  a  flying  mole,  or  the  mole  as  a  burrowing 
bat. 

5.  When  I  was  a  boy,  one  of  our  common  bats  flew  into 
the  house  one  evening  and  was   caught  under  a  hat.     It 
squeaked  and  snapped  its  little  jaws  so  viciously  that  all 
efforts  toward  closer  acquaintance   were  postponed  until 
morning.    When  uncovered  the  next  day  it  seemed  as  fierce 
as  before,  but  less  active  in  its  movements,  probably  over- 
powered by  the  glare  of  daylight.     When  touched,  its  jaws 
opened  wide,  the  sharp  teeth  were  exposed,  and  from  its 
little  throat  came  the  sharp  steely  clicks  so  characteristic 
of  our  bats. 

6.  Nor  did  this  fierce  demeanor  soften  in  the  least  dur- 
ing the  day,  and  when  night  approached  I  was  about  to 
let  it  go,  but  the  sight  of  a  big  fly  upon  the  window  sug- 
gested an  attempt  to  feed  the  captive.     Held  by  the  wings 
between  the  points  of  a  pair  of  forceps,  the  fly  had  no 
sooner  touched  the  bat's  nose  than  it  was  seized,  crunched, 
and  swallowed.     The  rapidity  of  its  disappearance  accorded 
with  the  width  to  which  the  eater's  jaws  were  opened  to 
receive  it,  and,  but  for  the  dismal  crackling  of  skin  and 
wings,  reminded  one  of  the  sudden  ingulf ment  of  beetles 
by  a  hungry  young  robin. 

7.  A  second  fly  went  the  same  road.     The  third  was 
more  deliberately  masticated,  and  I  ventured  to  pat  the 
devourer's  head.      Instantly  all  was  changed.     The  jaws 
gaped  as  if  they  would  separate,  the  crushed  fly  dropped 
from  the  tongue,  and  the  well-known  click  proclaimed  a 
hatred  and  defiance  which  hunger  could  not  subdue  nor 
food  appease.     So  at  least  it  seemed,  and  I  think  any  but  a 
boy-naturalist  would  have  yielded  to  the  temptation  to  fling 
the  spiteful  creature  out  of  the  window.     Perhaps,  too,  a 
certain  obstinacy  made  me  unwilling  to  so  easily  relinquish 
the  newly  formed  hope  of  domesticating  a  bat.      At  any 
rate,    another  fly  was  presented,    and,    like   the  former, 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR    WATS.       357 

dropped  the  moment  my  fingers  touched  the  head  of  the 
bat.  With  a  third  I  waited  until  the  bat  seemed  to  be  ac- 
tually swallowing,  and  unable  to  either  discontinue  that 
process  or  open  its  mouth -to  any  extent. 

8.  Its  rage  and  perplexity  were  comical  to  behold,  and, 
when  the  fly  was  really  down,  it  seemed  to  almost  burst 
with  the  effort  to  express  its  indignation.    But  this  did  not 
prevent  it  from  falling  into  the  same  trap  again ;  and,  to 
make  a  long  story  short,  it  finally  learned  by  experience 
that,  while  chewing  and  swallowing  were  more  or  less  in- 
terrupted by  snapping  at  me,  both  operations  were  quite 
compatible  with  my  gentle  stroking  of  its  head.     And  even 
a  bat  has  brains  enough  to  see  the  foolishness  of  losing  a 
dinner  in  order  to  resent  an  unsolicited  kindness. 

9.  In  a  few  days  the  bat  would  take  flies  from  my  fin- 
gers ;  although,  either  from  eagerness  or  because  blinded  by 
the  light,  it  too  often  nipped  me  sharply  in  its  efforts  to 
seize  the  victim.     Its  voracity  was  almost  incredible.     For 
several  weeks  it  devoured  at  least  fifty  house-flies  in  a  day 
(it  was  vacation,  and  my  playmates  had  to  assist  me),  and 
once  disposed   of  eighty  between  daybreak   and   sunset. 
This  bat  I  kept  for  more  than  two  months.     It  would  shuf- 
fle across  the  table  when  I  entered  the  room,  and  lift  up  its 
head  for  the  expected  fly.     When  traveling  it  was  carried 
in  my  breast-pocket.     In  the  fall  it  died,  either  from  over- 
eating or  lack  of  exercise,  for  I  dared  not  let  it  out  of  doors, 
and  it  was  so  apt  to  injure  itself  in  the  rooms  that  I  seldom 
allowed  it  to  fly.     I  should  add  that  it  drank  frequently 
and  greedily  from  the  tip  of  a  camel's-hair  pencil.     The 
following  bits  of  bat  biography  are  from  White's  "  Natural 
History  of  Selborne  "  : 

10.  "  Having  caught  a  lively  male  specimen  of  the 
common  '  long-eared  bat '  and  placed  the  little  fellow  in  a 
wire-gauze  cage,  and  inserted  a  few  large  flies,  he  was  soon 
attracted  by  their  buzz,  and,  pricking  up  his  ears  (just  as  a 


358  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

donkey  does),  he  pounced  upon  his  prey.  But,  instead  of 
taking  it  directly  into  his  mouth,  he  covered  it  with  his 
body  and  beat  it  by  aid  of  its  arms,  etc.,  into  the  bag 
formed  by  the  interfemoral  membrane.  He  then  put  his 
head  under  his  body,  withdrew  the  fly  from  the  bag,  and 
devoured  it  at  leisure. 

11.  "  This  appeared  to  be  always  the  modus  operandi, 
more  or  less  cleverly  performed.  Several  times,  when  the 
fly  happened  to  be  on  the  flat  surface  of  the  ground,  the 
capture  appeared  more  difficult,  and  my  little  friend  was, 
by  his  exertions,  thrown  on  his  back.  The  tail  could  then 
be  seen  turned  round,  with  its  tip  and  the  margin  of  the 
membrane  pressed  against  the  stomach,  forming  a  capital 
trap,  holding  the  fly,  the  captor  remaining  on  his  back  till 
he  had  withdrawn  the  fly  from  the  bag." 

Professor  Burl  G.  Wilder. 


THE    LEMMING   AND    ITS    MIGRATIONS. 

1.  THE  Norway  rat,  of  which  we  wish  to  say  a  few 
words,  is  the  lemming,  a  species  of  the  mouse-tribe,  some- 
what smaller  than  the  Guinea-pig,  to  which  in  form  it 
bears  a  considerable  resemblance,  only  the  head  and  body 
are  flatter.  Its  length  is  about  six  inches,  of  which  the 
short  stump  of  a  tail  forms  half  an  inch.  It  is  black  in 
color,  mottled  with  tawny  spots,  which  vary  in  their  dis- 
position in  different  individuals,  and  the  belly  is  white, 
with  a  slight  tinge  of  yellow.  The  fore  legs  are  short  and 
strong,  and  the  hind  legs  are  nearly  one  half  longer  than 
the  former,  enabling  it  to  run  with  considerable  speed. 
The  feet  are  armed  with  strong  hooked  claws,  five  in  num- 
ber, enabling  it  to  burrow  in  the  earth,  and  among  the 
frozen  snows  of  its  native  region. 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR   WATS.       359 

2.  Its  cheeks  are  blanched,  and  it  sports  a  pair  of  long, 
light  whiskers,  and  its  eyes,  though  small,  are  beautifully 
black  and  piercing.  The  lip  is  divided,  and  the  ears  are 
small  and  sharply  pointed.  As  its  home  borders  on  the 
region  of  eternal  snow,  in  the  valleys  of  the  Kolen  Mount- 
ains, which  separate  Sweden  from  Nordland,  its  hair  is 
both  thick  and  soft,  and  becomes  almost  white  during  the 
long  and  cheerless  winter  of  these  inhospitable  regions. 
The  skin  is  much  thinner  than  in  any  of  its  congeners. 


The  Lemming,  or  Norway  Hat, 

When  enraged,  it  gives  utterance  to  a  sljarp  yelp,  similar 
to  that  of  a  month-old  terrier- whelp. 

3.  It  is  a  lively  little  fellow,  when  met  with  in  its  na- 
tive haunts  during  the  short  summer — now  sitting  on  its 
haunches  nibbling  at  a  piece  of  lichen,  or  the  catkins  of 
the  birch,  which  it  conveys  to  its  mouth  with  its  fore  paws, 
after  the  manner  of  the  squirrel,  or  engaging  in  a  romp 
with  its  fellows,  popping  in  and  out  of  its  burrow  in  the 
earth,  where  it  sleeps  and  rears  its  young,  of  which  the  fe- 
male has  two  or  three  litters  annually,  numbering  from  five 


360  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

to  seven  in  each.  It  is  a  most  audacious  little  fellow,  and 
fears  neither  man  nor  beast,  refusing  to  give  way  save  on 
the  compulsion  of  superior  force.  Travelers  speak  of  hav- 
ing seen  them  frisking  about  in  hundreds  in  their  native 
forests,  when  they  dispute  the  path  even  with  man. 

4.  From  the  vantage-ground  of  the  mounds  of  earth  at 
the  entrance  to  their  burrows  they  sit  on  their  beam-ends 
and  scan  the  intruders  with  comical  gravity.     If  the  trav- 
eler has  a  dog  with  him,  unhappily  ignorant  of  the  ways 
of  this  cool  and  impudent  varmint,  he  will  likely  advance 
with  the  easy  nonchalance  of  his  tribe  to  smell  the  odd 
little  animal — which  betrays  no  fear  at  his  approach — to 
be  rewarded  by  a  sharp  and  trenchant  bite  on  the  nose,  a 
reception  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  it  is  ten  chances 
to  one  against  his  prosecuting  his  investigations  further, 
for  a  dog  is  too  well  bred  to  attack  any  strange  living  ob- 
ject which  awaits  his  approach. 

5.  The  lemming  multiplies  so  rapidly  that  in  the  course 
of  ten  or  twelve  seasons  food  becomes  scarce,  and,  on  the 
approach  of  some  winter,  when  the  food-question  has  be- 
come one  of  life  or  death,  the  overstocked  market  is  re- 
lieved by  an  expedient  unparalleled  in  its  nature  among  four- 
footed  animals.     This  singular  little  creature  is  so  local  in 
its  habits  that,  unless  under  the  circumstances  we  are  about 
to  narrate,  it  never  leaves  the  mountain  region  to  establish 
itself  on  the  plains,  where  food  is  more  abundant. 

6.  When  the  time  for  the  settlement  of  the  question  of 
partial  extermination  for  the  benefit  of  the  race,  or  total 
extermination  by  starvation,   can  no  longer  be  delayed, 
they  assemble  in  countless  thousands  in  some  of  the  mount- 
ain valleys  leading  into  the  plains,  and,  the  vast  army  of 
martyrs  being  selected,  they  pour  across  the  country  in  a 
straight  line,  a  living  stream,  often  exceeding  a  mile  in 
length  and  many  yards  in  breadth,  devouring  every  green 
thing  in  their  line  of  march,  the  country  over  which  they 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       361 

have  passed  looking  as  if  it  had  been  plowed,  or  burned 
with  fire.  They  march  principally  by  night,  resting  during 
the  day,  but  never  seek  to  settle  in  any  particular  locality, 
however  abundant  the  food  may  be  in  it,  for  their  final 
destination  is  the  distant  sea,  and  nothing  animate  or  in- 
animate, if  it  can  be  surmounted,  retards  the  straight,  on- 
ward tide  of  their  advance. 

?.  When  the  reindeer  gets  enveloped  in  the  living 
stream,  they  will  not  even  go  round  its  limbs,  but  bite  its 
legs  until,  in  its  agony  and  terror,  it  plunges  madly  about, 
crushing  them  to  death  in  hundreds,  and  even  killing  them 
with  its  teeth.  If  a  man  attempts  to  stem  the  living  tor- 
rent, they  leap  upon  his  legs ;  and,  if  he  lay  about  him 
with  a  stick,  they  seize  it  with  their  teeth,  and  hold  on  to 
it  with  such  determined  pertinacity  that  he  may  swing  it 
rapidly  round  his  head  without  compelling  them  to  loosen 
their  hold.  If  a  corn-  or  hay-rick  be  in  the  way,  they  eat 
their  way  through  it ;  and,  on  arriving  at  the  smooth  face 
of  a  rock,  they  pass  round  it,  forming  up  in  close  column 
again  on  the  other  side.  Lakes,  however  broad,  are  boldly 
entered,  and  the  passage  attempted  ;  and  rivers,  however 
deep  and  rapid,  are  forded,  impediments  in  the  water  being 
as  boldly  faced  as  those  on  shore.  They  have  been  known 
to  pass  over  a  boat,  and  to  climb  on  to  the  deck  of  a  ship, 
passing,  without  stop  or  stay,  into  the  water  on  the  farther 
side. 

8.  Their  natural  instincts  are  not  in  abeyance  during 
this  migration,  as  females  are  frequently  seen  accompanied 
by  their  young,  and  carrying  in  their  teeth  some  one  which 
had  succumbed  to  the  fatigues  of  the  march,  which  might 
not  be  stayed  until  the  helpless  one  was  recruited. 

9.  Foxes,  lynxes,  weasels,  kites,  owls,  etc.,  hover  on 
their  line  of  march  and  destroy  them  in  hundreds.     The 
fish  in  the  rivers  and  lakes  lay  a  heavy  toll  upon  them,  and 
vast  numbers  are  drowned,  and  die  by  other  accidents  in 

16 


362  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

"  flood  and  field  "  ;  but  the  survivors,  impelled  by  some  ir- 
resistible instinct,  press  onward  with  no  thought  of  stop- 
ping, until  they  lose  themselves  in  the  sea,  sinking  in  its 
depths,  as  they  become  exhausted,  in  such  numbers  that 
for  miles  their  bodies,  thrown  up  by  the  tide,  lie  putrefy- 
ing on  the  shore.  Comparatively  few  ever  return  to  their 
native  haunts,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  some  do  so, 
as  they  have  been  seen  on  the  return,  pursuing  their  back- 
ward journey  in  the  same  fearless  and  determined  manner 
as  their  advance.  Temple  Bar 


THE  COATI-MONDI. 

1.  SAILORS  from   South   America  occasionally,  among 
other  pets,  bring  a  small  animal,  which,  because  of  its  long 
nose,  they  invariably  call  an  ant-eater.      Thus  was  a  little 
stranger  introduced  to  our  care  a  few  years  ago.     A  glance 
was  enough  to  see  that  it  was  no  ant-eater  at  all,  but  a 
pretty  female  coati-mondi.     Gallant  Jack  Tar,  her  master 
on  ship,  unconscious  of  the  incongruity,  had  made  a  name- 
sake  of  her,  and  called  her  Jack.     Science  had  already 
named  her  Nasua,  and  in  a  matter-of-fact  way,  for  the 
word  interpreted  just  means  —  Nosie.     The   animal    was 
about  the  size  of  a  cat,  with  a  thick,  coarse  fur,  of  a  brown- 
ish hue  on  the  back  and  sides,  and  underneath  shades  from 
yellow  to  orange.     The  long  tail  was  ornamented  by  a  se- 
ries of  black  and  yellowish- brown  rings. 

2.  Her  nasal  prominence  reminded  me  of  a  queer  Span- 
iard, once  employed  in  the  government  service  to  detect 
spurious  coin.     His  "  counterfeit  detector  "  was  a  sensitive 
proboscis.    By  sticking  this  organ  into  the  glittering  heaps, 
he  literally  "  nosed  "  out  the  bad  from  the  good.     To  that 
man  his  nose  was  the  instrument  of  his  profession ;  and  to 
Nasua  her  nose  was  equally  important.     It  even  prompted 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       363 

a  nick-name  and  a  juvenile  pun — "  Nosie's  nose  knows 
too  much  !  "  Inappeasably  inquisitive,  she  was  incessantly 
intruding  that  organ  into  everything.  Having  made  no 
allowance  for  an  extra-tropical  temperature,  this  little  South 
American  made  a  failure  in  an  attempt  to  lift  with  her 
nose  the  lid  of  a  pot  in  the  cook's  domain. 

3.  The  next  attempt,  a  successful  one,  was  on  the  knife- 
box,  whose  closely  fitting  lid  was  pried  open  and  every  ar- 
ticle inspected,  in  happy  ignorance  of  the  proverb  about 
edged  tools.     It  was  enough  that  anything  was  hollow  to 
excite  her   curiosity,  which  was   of   a   thoroughly  simian 
type.     The  dinner-bell  was  turned  over ;  but,  unable  to 
detach  the  clapper  and  chain,  it  was  soon  abandoned  in  dis- 
gust.    A  round  sleigh-bell  received  more  persevering  at- 
tention.    Unable   to  get  her  nose  or  paws  into  the  little 
hole  at  the  side,  the  clatter  within  set  her  wild  with  excite- 
ment, and  evoked  a  desperate  attack  on  the  little  annoy- 
ance with  her  teeth.    She  then  gave  it  up  as  a  bootless  job. 

4.  A  bottle  of  hartshorn  was  next  made  the  subject  of 
investigation.     We  had  purposely  loosened  the  cork,  and 
promised  ourselves  a  "  nice  sell  "  ;  and  we  got  it — not  Nb- 
sie.      She  was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted  by  the  drug. 
In  fact,   she  had  a  strong  nose  for  such  things.     A  man 
gave  her  his  tobacco-box.     Resting  it  on  the  floor  between 
her  two  paws,  which  possessed  uncommon  flexibility,  she 
turned  it  over  and  over,  round  and  round,  exercising  alter- 
nately her  nose,  claws,  and  teeth  upon  it  with  great  energy, 
but  to  no  avail.     It  seemed  that  the  smell  of  its  contents 
infatuated  her,  as  she  showed  no  disposition  to  stop.     The 
man   opened  the  box  for  her.      She  was  in  rapture.      In 
went  the  nose,  also  both  front  paws.     Very  soon  that  won- 
derfully mobile  organ  had  separated  every  fiber,  so  that  the 
mass  seemed  trebly  increased.     The  same  man  let  her  have 
his  dirty  pipe,  when  her  velvety  nose  was  instantly  squeezed 
into  the  rank  nicotian  bowl. 


364 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


5.  It  would  be  wrong  to  infer  that  Nasua's  prying  pro- 
pensity never  got  her  into  trouble.  In  the  following  in- 
stance, speaking  metaphorically,  she  put  her  foot  into  it  : 
The  old  cat  had  just  finished  her  nap,  and  was  stretching 
herself,  an  operation  which  means  that  she  stood  with  her 
four  feet  close  together,  the  limbs  elon- 
gated, the  back  rounded  up  like  that  of 
a  camel,  the  head  erect  and  drawn  back, 
and  the  mouth  yawning  widely.  Such 
a  sight  Nosie  had  never  seen,  hence  it 
must  be  looked  into.  So  in  a  trice,  erect, 
and  resting  flatly  on  her  hind  feet  like  a 
little  bear,  she  put  her  arms  round  Tab- 
bie's  neck,  and,  reeking  with  nicotine, 
down  went  that  inquisitive  nose  into  the 
depths  of  the 
feline  fauces. 
This  unwarrant- 
able intrusion 
was  met  by  a 
reception  more 
feeling  than  fe- 
licitous, judging 
from  the  haste 
in  which  Nasua 
withdrew  to  a 
corner  of  the 
room  to  rumi- 
nate on  the  un- 
toward incident.  Her  method  of  relieving  the  injured 
member  was  itself  original.  She  placed  it  between  her 
paws,  holding  it  tightly,  then  jerked  it  through  them, 
giving  a  violent  sneeze  every  time  it  came  out.  That 
sneezing  was  genuine,  because  it  was  involuntary.  Both 
hartshorn  and  nicotine  had  signally  failed  to  get  up  any- 


Coati-Hondi. 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       365 

thing  respectable  in  that  line ;  but  that  cat-nip,  pure  and 
simple,  did  the  business  finely. 

6.  Quite  pretty  was  the  pattern  of  the  animal's  ears — 
they  were  so  clean,  trim,  soft,  and  small.  Though  rather 
pert,  they  had  an  air  about  them  that  was  really  amiable, 
and  such  as  the  canine  fancier  would  pronounce  elegant. 
She  was  not  averse  to  a  little  fondling,  and  I  well  remem- 
ber the  first  time  she  climbed  upon  my  lap.  Those  pretty 
ears  suddenly  quivered.  The  ticking  of  my  watch  had  ex- 
cited her.  Down  goes  that  ubiquitous  utilitarian  organ 


Coati-Mondi  asleep. 

into  the  watch-pocket.  Failing  with  the  nose,  she  makes 
a  desperate  effort  with  that  and  both  forefeet  all  at  once. 
Still  unable  to  evict  that  case  of  mystery,  she  thrusts  her 
nose  down  by  its  side,  and  for  several  minutes,  with  simi- 
an quaintness,  listens  to  the  ticking  of  mortal  Time. 

7.  In  the  same  manner,  though  not  to  the  same  extent, 
the  nose  of  the  Nasua,  like  the  same  organ  of  the  elephant, 
projects  far  beyond  the  mouth.  At  our  first  acquaintance 
with  the  animal,  we  were  anxious  to  see  if  it  could  drink 


366  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

out  of  a  deep,  narrow  vessel.  So  a  mug,  containing  about 
a  gill  of  milk,  was  set  before  her.  She  instantly  turned 
up  the  proboscis  toward  her  forehead,  and,  in  the  easiest 
way  imaginable,  lapped  the  vessel  dry.  The  organ  was  not 
even  wet.  The  sight,  though  comical,  was  really  pretty. 
It  was  the  only  time  that  I  had  ever  seen  the  turning  up 
of  the  nose  at  one's  friends  so  deftly  and  gracefully  done. 
And  she  could  turn  the  same  organ  in  a  contrary  way  quite 
as  easily. 

8.  Sometimes  for  an  airing  the  animal  was  tied  by  a 
long  tether  to  a  flower-stand  on  the  lawn.     She  had  nearly 
all  the  appetencies  of  the  domestic  swine ;  and  the  end  of 
her  proboscis  was  essentially  a  swine's  snout.     I  now  beheld 
the  use  of  this  singularly  tipped  organ.     And  an  interest- 
ing sight  it  was  to  see  that  little  thing  plow  up  the  green- 
sward with  the  tip  of  her  nose — and  so  easily.     Here  ap- 
peared the  veritable  swinish  acuteness  of  scent  for  insects 
and   worms,  and  the  swinish   facility  for  rooting  in  the 
ground.     With  surprising  rapidity  furrow  after  furrow  was 
made,  of  about  the  width  of  a  man's  thumb.     Whenever  a 
worm  or  insect  was  discovered,  as  when  drinking,  the  nose 
was  curved  up,  so  that  the  mouth  could  extract  the  object 
from  the  furrow. 

9.  The  tail  of  Nasua  is  quite  suggestive  of  the  raccoon  ; 
but  Nasua's  tail  is  a  much  handsomer  affair — longer,  and 
with  rings  more  numerous  and  of  gayer  colors.     With  ad- 
mirable intelligence,  our  pet  put  this  beautiful  appendage 
to  a  remarkable  use.     She  was  tethered  by  a  string  to  a 
chair,  and  an  egg  was  put  on  the  floor  at  a  tantalizing  dis- 
tance.    She  could  just  touch  it  with  a  paw,  and  that  touch 
caused  the  coveted  prize  to  roll  out  of  reach.     She  then 
turned  her  hind  feet  toward  it,  pulling  hard  so  as  to  stretch 
her  neck  ;  still,  even  with  a  hind  foot  she  could  not  touch 
it.     The  logic  of  events  was  now,  "  Get  it  if  you  can  !  " 

10.  All  this  Nasua  well  understood,  for  she  turned  tail 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.        367 

on  the  subject  altogether — not,  however,  as  did  Reynard 
on  the  grapes,  but  strategically.  She  gathered  herself  up, 
and  looked  at  the  coveted  object  with  speculative  eyes. 
Then  she  swung  herself  round  again,  pulling  hard  on  the 
tether  by  the  neck.  She  then  curved  the  tip  of  the  tail  so 
as  to  make  a  little  hook.  .Now  she  grasps  the  base  of  the 
tail  with  one  paw,  as  with  a  hand,  thus  stiffening  and 
steadying  the  organ.  She  next  slowly  and  cautiously  rolled 
the  egg,  by  the  curved  tip  of  the  tail,  through  a  section  of 
a  circle,  until  it  was  brought  within  reach  of  one  of  the 
front  feet.  The  egg  now  seized,  sitting  on  her  hind  feet 
like  a  bear,  she  cracks  it,  extracts  the  contents,  and  nei- 
ther spills  a  drop  on  the  floor,  nor  so  much  as  soils  that 
wonderful  nose ;  for  among  her  many  gifts  is  her  soft  and 
extensile  tongue. 

11.  A  word  is  necessary  as  to  the  peculiar  temerity  of 
this  animal.     From  two  points  it  was  liable  to  give  way  to 
extreme  impulsiveness — the  excitement  of  opposition,  or  of 
inquisitiveness.      If  anything  attacked  her,  whatever  the 
object  or  the  odds  might  be,  she  would  face  the  assailant, 
and  close  in  with  her  shrill  little  squeaks  of  rage,  and  in  a 
wild  sort  of  dash.     If  one  slapped  her,  whatever  might  be 
her  terror,  she  would  rush  upon  and  snap  at  the  hand.    The 
dog-like  sagacity  of  running  under  the  table  or  chair  was 
not  her  way.     Hers  was  the  peccary  instinct  of  running 
upon  danger.     No  monkey  could  be  a  .more  importunate 
or  impertinent  teaser  than  was  our  coati  ;  but  Jocko  shows 
sagacity  with  his  jokes — for  he  always  adroitly  leaps  aside 
of  consequences. 

12.  I  have  watched  our  pet  tease  the  cat  with  imper- 
turbable persistency,  until  Tabbie,  unable  to  tolerate  mat- 
ters any  longer,  has  struck  her  sharp  claws  into  that  soft 
proboscis,  then  moved  away,  leaving  her  persecutor  dazed 
with  astonishment.      Then,  in  a  moment,  forgetting  all, 
she  would  turn  her  attention  to  the  setter-dog,  and,  despite 


368  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

his  growls  and  menacing  teeth,  would  keep  up  a  systematic 
worrying — catching  at  his  tail,  nipping  at  his  legs,  and  even 
poking  her  nose  into  his  ears.  At  length  the  poor  brute, 
fairly  goaded  to  rage,  seized  her  like  a  rat,  and,  but  for  my 
prompt  interference,  that  would  have  been  the  last  display 
of  Nasua's  rashness. 

13.  One  morning  she  got  into  the  dining-room  as  we 
were  at  breakfast.     She  took  possession  of  madam's  lap. 
Her  first  act  was  to  poke  her  nose  at  the  coffee-urn.     This 
evoked  a  squeak  of  pain.     It  was  supposed  that  she  had 
had  enough.     Not  quite.     Her  next  essay  was  on  a  cup  of 
hot  coffee,  with  a  similar  result.     She  now  smelt  the  con- 
tents of  the  sugar-bowl.     This  discovery  so  excited  that 
" sweet  will"  of  hers  that  instant  removal  became  impera- 
tive. 

14.  Later  in  the  day  she  tried  to  capture  a  wasp.     She 
struck  it  down,  and  held  it  a  second  under  her  foot.     This 
was  met  by  an  appeal,  addressed  solely  to  her  understand- 
ing, of  so  pointed  a  nature  as  made  her  chatter  with  dis- 
tress.    Disabled  in  one  wing,  the  insect  could  not  fly  away. 
Although  still  smarting  from  the  wounded  foot,  the  moral 
of  the  lesson  is  only  half  learned.     Coati   can  not  give 
"little  yellow-jacket  "up.     So  she  tries  the  wasp  again — 
this  time  with  her  nose.     Alas,  that  sting  !     Miss  Nasua 
now  finds  that  other  little  folks  besides  herself  can  utilize 
their  tails ;  for,  in  proof  of  this,  she  receives  not  a  merely 
duplicated,  but  an  intensified  experience,  such  as  exacts 
a  staccato  outgush  of  agony  of  truly  simian  expression. 

15.  We  can  recall  but  one  lesson  which  she  took  sin- 
cerely to  heart.     The  old  cow  was  quietly  ruminating  near 
the  house.     With  her  usual  temerity,  for  she  was  always 
ready  to  "go  it  blind,"  Coati  made  an  attempt  to  climb 
one  of  Cushie's  legs.     The  cow  raised  her  foot  to  shake  the 
annoyance  off,  and  in  setting  it  down  she  put  her  hoof  on 
Nasua's  tail,  and  there  standing,  gravely  ruminating,  held 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       369 

her  fast  to  the  ground.  Her  rapid,  chattering  cry  brought 
one  of  the  ladies  to  her  rescue.  The  tail  was  very  badly 
hurt.  Ever  after,  between  Coati  and  Cushie  a  respectful 
distance  was  maintained.  R^  Samud  Loclcwood, 


JEMMY. 

1.  As  company  for  the  monkeys  and  myself,  for  many 
years  past  I  have  had  a  "Jemmy."     All  my  Suricates  I 
call  "Jemmys."     The   Latin  name  is   Suricata  Zenick. 
Jemmy  is  a  very  pretty  little  beast,  somewhat  like  a  small 
mongoose  or  a  very  large  rat.     His  head  is  as  like  the  head 
of  a  hedgehog  as  can    be  imagined.      His  color  is  light 
brown,  with  darker  stripes  down  the  sides.     He  is  an  Afri- 
can animal,  and  lives  in  burrows  on  the  plains,  whence  he 
is  sometimes  called  the  African  prairie-dog,  or  the  meer- 
catze.      Captain    Adams    tells  me    that,   when   in   South 
Africa,  he  has  frequently  come  across  a  camp  of  Jemmys. 
The  plain  will  appear  covered  with  them,  sitting  up  mo- 
tionless like  so  many  ninepins ;  at  the  least  notice,  they 
simultaneously  and  in  an   instant   disappear  down  their 
holes. 

2.  I  would  like  now  to  say  something  of  the  habits  of 
this  pretty  little  fellow.     Jemmy  the  Third  (for  I  have 
previously  had  two  Jemmys)  was  allowed  the  free  range  of 
the  whole  house.     He  was  full  of  curiosity  and  restlessness, 
running  continually  from  one  room  to  another.     He  very 
seldom  walked  ;  his  pace,   on  the  contrary,   was  a  short 
gallop,  or  rather  canter.     When  on  the  move  he  always 
gave  tongue,  like  a  hound  on  a  scent.     It  is  impossible  to 
describe  his  melodious  cry  in  words.     When  handled  and 
petted  he  would  utter  a  sharp  bark,  not  unlike  that  of  a 
dog ;  and,  if  in  a  very  good  humor,  I  could,  by  imitating 


3TO  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

him,  make  him  bark  alternately  with  myself.  His  great 
peculiarity  was  his  wonderfully  intelligent  and  observing 
look.  He  had  the  peculiarity  also  of  sitting  up  on  his  tail, 
like  a  kangaroo ;  his  fore  paws  on  this  occasion  were  like 
a  dog's  when  begging.  He  was  very  fond  of  warmth,  and 
would  sit  up  inside  the  fender  and  warm  himself,  occasion- 


The  Suricate  (Jemmy}. 

ally  leaning  back  against  the  fender  and  looking  round 
with  the  satisfied  air  of  an  old  gentleman  reposing  after 
dinner.  When  the  morning  sun  came  into  the  room, 
Jemmy  would  go  and  sit  in  the  sunbeams  and  look  out  of 
the  window  at  the  passing  cabs  and  omnibuses.  When 
doing  this  he  had  a  way  of  turning  round  very  sharply  and 
looking  with  his  little  pig's  eyes  at  me  and  back,  as  much 
as  to  say,  "  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

3.  When  breakfast  came  up  he  would  dance  round  me 
on  his  hind  legs,  watching  for  something.  I  often  put 
him  on  the  breakfast-table ;  if  I  did  not  put  him  up  he 
would  climb  up  uninvited.  It  was  very  amusing  to  see  him 
go  and  smell  the  egg,  and,  in  his  own  language,  swear  at  it 
for  being  hot.  He  could  not  understand  its  being  hot 
enough  to  burn  his  nose  ;  raw  eggs  were  his  special  favor- 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.        371 

ites.  His  great  delight  was  to  be  allowed  to  upset  the 
sugar-basin,  and  then  scratch  about  among  the  lumps  of 
sugar.  He  was  also  very  fond  of  cream,  and  it  was  most 
amusing  to  see  him  try  to  get  the  little  drops  of  cream  I 
had  left  for  him  out  of  the  cream-can,  as  left  by  the  milk- 
woman.  I  am  obliged  to  have  my  cream  in  this  little  can, 
as  the  cats,  marmoset,  or  something  else  would  be  sure  to 
have  it  before  I  came  down.  I  placed  the  cream-can  on 
the  floor,  and  it  was  fun  to  see  Jemmy  try  to  force  it  open 
with  his  teeth,  to  get  the  cream  out ;  he  used  quite  to  lose 
his  patience  with  this  metal  cream-can. 

4.  After  breakfast,  Jemmy  generally  had  a  stand-up 
fight  with  the  monkeys.     He  would  inspect  (from  the  out- 
side) the  bottom  of  the  monkey-cage.     If  he  discovered 
any  portion  of  the  monkeys'  breakfast  which  he  thought 
might  suit  him,  he  would  immediately  try  to  steal  it  by 
thrusting  his  arms  through  the  bur.      The  monkeys  invari- 
ably resented  this  indignity.     The  carroty,  old,  crippled 
monkey,  Jane,  could  only  make  eyes  and  faces  at  him. 
The  wicked,  impudent  "Little  Jack"  would  jump  up  and 
down  like  an  India-rubber  ball,  all  the  time  well  inside  the 
cage,  where  Jemmy  could  not  get  at  him.     When  Jemmy 
was  fighting  the  monkeys,  he  would  stand  on  his  hind  legs 
and   show  his  lovely,  white,   carnivorous  teeth   at   them, 
turning  up  his  sharp,  mole-like  nose  in  a  most  contemptu- 
ous manner,  all  the  time  keeping  up  &  continuous  bark, 
into  which  fun  the  parrot  generally  entered  and  barked  like 
Jemmy  also. 

5.  One  morning,  in  the  middle  of  the  fight,  Jemmy 
forgot  himself  for  the  moment  in  turning  round,  and  gave 
the  ever- vigilant  Little  Jack  a  chance.     Little  Jack  seized 
Jemmy's   tail  with   screams  of   delight,   and   pulled   him 
straight  up  to  the  bars.     Carroty  Jane  then  joined  in,  and 
they  were  getting  the  best  of  it,  when  suddenly  Jemmy 
turned  sharp  round  and  made  his  teeth  meet  in  Little 


372  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

Jack's  hand.  Little  Jack  skirmished  round  the  cage  three 
or  four  times  on  three  legs  ;  then,  holding  up  his  wounded 
hand,  gazed  mournfully  and  piteously  at  it,  every  now  and 
then  leaving  off  looking  to  make  fiercer  faces,  and  cock  his 
ears  at  Jemmy.  Never  since  has  Little  Jack  ventured  his 
hands  outside  the  bars  when  a  Jemmy  fight  came  on. 

6.  One  of  the  funniest  scenes  that  ever  happened  with 
Jemmy  was  as  follows  :  Some  sea-side  specimens  had  been 
sent  me,  and  among  the  sea-weed  was  a  live  shore-crab 
about  the  size  of  a  five-shilling  piece.     Little   "  Chick- 
Chick,"  the  marmoset,  who  will  eat  any  quantity  of  meal- 
worms, blue-bottle  flies,  etc.,  came  down  at  once  off  the 
mantel-piece  and  examined  Mr.   Crab,  who  was  crawling 
about  on  the  floor.     None  of  my  animals  had  evidently 
seen  a  live  crab  before.     The  monkeys  were  very  much 
frightened,  and  made  the  same  cry  of  alarm  as  when  I  show 
them  a  snake  or  the  house-broom.     Chick-Chick  evidently 
thought  that  the  crab  was  a  huge  insect.     The  crab  put 
out  his  two  nippers  at  full  length  and  gave  the  marmoset 
such  a  pinch  that  he  retreated  to  the  mantel-piece,  and 
from  this  safe  height  gazed  down  upon  the  still  threatening 
crab,  uttering  loud  cries  of  "  Chick,  chick,  chick ! "  alter- 
nated with  his  plaintive,  bat-like,  shrill  note. 

7.  Presently  round  the  corner  comes  Mrs.   Cat.     The 
cat  evidently  thought  that   the  crab,  which  was  gently 
crawling  about,  was  a  mouse.    She  instantly  crouched,  head, 
eyes,  and  ears  all  intent,  as  if  trying  to  make  up  her  mind 
whether  the  crab  was  a  mouse  on  which  she  ought  to  pounce 
or  not.     Hearing  the  row  caused  by  the  crab  and  marmo- 
set fight,  up  comes  Jemmy  in  full  cry,  with  tail  cocked 
well  in  the  air.     He  also  attacked  the  crab,  but  could  not 
make  head  or  tail  of  him.     He  did  not  like  the  smell,  still 
less  did  he  like  the  sundry  nips  in  the  nose  that  he  received 
from  the  crab's  claws.     A  grand  crab  and  Jemmy  fight, 
which  lasted  nearly  half  an  hour,  then  took  place,  ending 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.        373 

in  the  discomfiture  of  the  crab,  whose  carcass  the  marmoset 
and  the  cat,  both  coming  forward,  evidently  desired  to 
share.  Although  it  was  apparent  that  the  taste  of  the 
crab  was  not  agreeable  to  Jemmy's  palate,  yet  he  gradually 
ate  him  up — claws,  shells,  and  all — simply  to  prevent  the 
other  animals  from  getting  a  single  bit. 

8.  Jemmy  has  teeth  half  carnivorous,  half  insectivorous. 
When  he  is  at  home  in  Africa  he  lives  upon  mice,  beetles, 
etc.     He  probably  digs  these  creatures  out  of  the  ground, 
for,  whenever  he  sees  a  crack  in  the  floor,  or  a  hole  in  a 
board,  he  will  scratch  away  at  it,  as  though  much  depended 
upon  his  exertions.     When  he  is  fed,  it  is  curious  to  ob- 
serve how  he  always  pretends  to  kill  his  food  before  eating 
it.     He  invariably  retreats  backward  while  he  is  scratching 
and  biting  at  his  supposed  lively  food.     The  living  food 
evidently  is  in  the  habit  of  escaping  forward.     Mr.  Jemmy 
takes  good  care  that  he  shall  not  do  so,  by  scratching  in- 
cessantly in  a  backward  direction. 

9.  The  cat's-meat  man  comes  punctually  every  day  at 
half-past  one;  when  the  cats  hear  the  cry  "meat,"  they 
rush  down  into  the  area,  and  Master  Jemmy,  seeing  them 
bolt,  would  run  also,  his  object  being  to  steal  the  ration  of 
meat  from  one  of  the  cats.     By  instinct  or  experience  he 
had  somehow  found  out  that  the  cat's  claws  are  very  sharp, 
and  whereas  his  mode  of  attack  upon  the  monkey  was  face 
to  face,  the  monkeys  being  clawless,  he  .attacked  the  cats 
by  ruffing  his  hair  up  and  pushing  himself  backward. 

10.  The  cat,  annoyed  by  being  disturbed  at  dinner, 
would  leave  off  eating  and  strike  sharply  at  Jemmy  with 
her  paw ;    that  was  his   opportunity.      In   a  moment  he 
would  seize  the  cat's  meat  and  bolt  with  it,  but  by  a  most 
peculiar  method,  for  when  within  striking  distance  of  the 
cat's  paw  he  would  turn  round  and  back  up  to  the  cat's 
face,  and,  directly  she  struck  at  him,  he  caught  the  blow 
on  the  back  ;  then  he  would  put  his  nose  down  through  his 


374  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

fore  legs,  and  through  the  hinder  ones,  and  have  the  meat 
in  a  moment,  leaving  the  cat  wondering  where  it  was  gone. 
Jemmy  had  by  this  time  taken  it  into  a  place  of  safety. 
Under  the  table  in  Mr.  Searle's  office  there  is  just  room  for 
him  to  crawl  ;  here  the  angry  cat  could  not,  of  course,  fol- 
low him.  In  this  retreat  he  would  finish  up  what  he  had 
stolen,  and  then  emerge  licking  his  lips,  and  probably 
laughing  to  himself  at  the  disappointed  face  of  the  cat. 

11.  Jemmy  was  always  fond  of  getting  under  anything 
or  in  any  kind  of  hole,  and  his  great  delight  was  to  get 
into  a  boot,  and  when  he  got  to  the  end,  scratching  it  as 
though  he  wanted  to  get  farther  into  the  burrow.  Fre- 
quently I  found  my  boots  going  round  the  room,  propelled, 
apparently,  by  some  internal  machinery.  This  machinery 
was  Master  Jemmy.  Jemmy  was  a  greedy  little  fellow. 
John  could  not  bring  up  any  kind  of  food  into  my  room 
without  Jemmy.  He  would  watch  the  cook  broiling  the 
chop  down  stairs,  and,  when  John  brought  it  up,  would  fol- 
low close  to  his  heels,  and  what  between  Jemmy's  pretty, 
begging  manner,  the  monkey's  plaintive  cries,  and  the  par- 
rot's demand,  it  often  happens  that  I  get  very  little  of  the 

ch°P-  Frank  Buckland. 


THE   AARD-VARK. 

1.  THIS  animal,  known  in  science  as  the  orycteropus, 
belongs  to  the  order  Edentata,  or  insect-eaters.  It  is  a  na- 
tive of  South  Africa,  and  is  called  by  the  Dutch  settlers 
the  aard-vark,  or  earth-hog.  It  is  of  heavy  build,  with 
arched  back,  like  a  pig,  which  animal  it  further  resembles 
in  that  its  skin  is  sparsely  strewed  with  hairs.  But  its 
very  long  ears,  instead  of  being  pendent  like  those  of  the 
pig,  rise  like  horns  on  both  sides  of  the  head.  Neither  is 
the  tail  slender  or  twisted  into  a  corkscrew  curl  ;  on  the 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       375 

contrary,  it  is  of  conical  shape,  and  very  thick  at  the  base. 
Finally,  the  rather  elongated  head,  terminating  in  a  regular 
snout,  has  at  its  extremity  a  buccal  opening  rather  larger 
than  in  the  ant-eater,  but  yet  far  smaller  than  in  swine. 

2.  The  teeth,  numbering  five  or  six  pairs  in  the  lower 
jaw  and  six  or  seven  in  the  upper,  increase  in  size  from  the 
first  to  the  one  before  the  last  on  each  side.     Their  struc- 
ture is  peculiar,  being  far  less  dense  than  in  most  mamma- 
lia, and  having  no  coating  of  enamel.     The  grinding  surface 
is  flattened,  and  the  single  root  is  pierced  with  a  number  of 
holes  in  its  periphery.     The  slender,  protractile  tongue  is, 
as  in  nearly  all  of  the  Edentata,  covered  with  a  viscous  sub- 
stance, designed  to  secure  the  small  insects  on  which  the 
animal  lives.     The  short,  heavy  feet  terminate,  the  anterior 
in  four  digits,  the  posterior  in  five,  all  armed  with  strong, 
hoof-like  claws.     In  the  posterior  feet,  as  in  the  anterior, 
the  external  lateral  digits  are  a  little  shorter  than  the 
others. 

3.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  body  is  swollen  like  a  full 
skin-bottle,  and  furrowed  with  creases  which  radiate  from 
the  abdominal  region  between  the  paws.     The  latter  are  of 
enormous  size,  and  the  tail,  which  is  soft  and  flabby,  falls 
to  the  ground  by  its  own  weight.     The  general  appearance 
of  the  animal  is  at  once  mean  and  grotesque.     Looked  at 
from  behind,  it  resembles  a  bag,  the  long  ears  projecting 
on  each  side  being  the  ends  of  the  string  by  which  the 
mouth  of  the  bag  is  tied. 

4.  This  orycteropus  lives  in  pairs  in  the  plains  of  Kor- 
dofan,  where  it  is  called  by  the  Arabs  abudelatif,  i.  e., 
"the  father  that  owns  claws."     In  the  daytime  it  lies  hid- 
den and  doubled  up  in  a  deep  hole,  which  it  digs  in  the 
loose  soil  of  the  plain  by  means  of  its  broad,  sharp  claws. 
Toward  evening  it  quits  this  hiding-place  and  begins  to 
move  about,  advancing  either  by  leaps,  or  else  with  an  un- 
steady gait,  walking  nearly  always  on  the  extremities  of  its 


376  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

digits.  Whatever  may  have  been  written  heretofore  by 
naturalists,  the  orycteropus  is  in  fact  digitigrade  rather 
than  plantigrade.  When  the  animal  is  walking,  the  head 
is  inclined,  the  snout  nearly  touching  the  ground,  the  ears 
laid  half-way  back,  and  the  tail  trailing.  From  time  to 
time  the  animal  stops  to  listen  ;  it  is  guided  principally  by 
hearing  and  smell,  and  by  the  same  means  contrives  to  es- 
cape from  its  enemies. 

5.  On  finding  a  path  that  has  been  traveled  over  by 
ants  or  termites,  it  follows  it  up  to  the  ant-hill ;  having 
reached  the  latter,  it  attacks  the  structure  with  its  paws, 
making  the  dust  fly  all  around,  and  digging  rapidly  till  it 


The  Aard^  Vark. 

comes  to  the  center,  or  at  least  to  one  of  the  principal 
streets.  Then,  alternately  exserting  and  retracting  its 
viscous  tongue,  it  devours  the  ants  by  the  thousands. 
Having  made  an  end  of  one  nest,  it  attacks  another,  and  so 
on  till  its  hunger  is  appeased.  When  we  consider  the 
alarming  rate  at  which  ants  and  termites  multiply,  and  the 
damage  they  cause,  we  must  recognize  in  the  orycteropus 
one  of  the  most  efficient  of  man's  auxiliaries  in  tropical  re- 
gions. 

6.  The  orycteropi  are  extremely  timid  :  at  the  slightest 
noise  they  try  to  get  under  ground.  If  they  find  no  suitable 
hole  or  crevice,  then  they  quickly  dig  for  themselves  a  hid- 
ing-place. The  late  J.  Verreaux,  who  had  many  a  time 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       377 

observed  orycteropi  at  the  Cape,  lias  told  me  of  how,  hav- 
ing once  seized  by  the  tail  one  of  them  when  it  had  got 
but  half  of  its  body  under  ground,  he  could  not  get  the  ani- 
mal out  except  by  having  the  ground  dug  to  a  considerable 
depth.  In  eastern  Africa  the  negroes,  approaching  cau- 
tiously, kill  the  orycteropus  by  a  sudden  thrust  of  a  lance 
before  it  has  time  to  disappear.  In  Senegal,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  animal  *is  caught  in  iron  traps,  or  hunted  with 
dogs  by  night.  The  skin  of  the  animal  is  thick,  and  makes 
good,  strong  leather.  The  flesh  is  by  some  travelers  de- 
scribed as  juicy,  with  a  taste  like  that  of  pork ;  according 
to  others  it  is  disgusting,  being  strongly  impregnated  with 
ant-odor.  From  the  Frem]l  O~  Oustalct 


THE   ORNITHORHYNCHUS. 

1.  THE  discoverers  of  Australia  and  New  Zealand,  and 
the  early  voyagers  who  visited  those  regions,  brought  back 
marvelous  accounts  of  the  curious  plants,   animals,   and 
birds  which  they  found  there.     The  objects  described  so 
differed  from  those   known  in  the  northern   hemisphere 
that  the  stories  were  usually  regarded  as  of  the  Munchausen 
order,  resulting  from  an  imperfect  observation  united  with 
a  very  lively  imagination,  or  from  a  deliberate  effort  to  de- 
ceive.    As  these  regions  have  become  better  known,  the 
veracity  of  the  old  navigators  has  been  completely  vindi- 
cated, and  it  has  been  found  that  the  half  was  not  told. 
Most  of  living  organisms,  both  vegetable  and  animal,  seem 
constructed  upon  a  different  plan  from  those  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  see,  and  science  shows  that  they  are  more  nearly 
akin  to  the  extinct  forms  of  the  old  geological  ages  than 
to  the  present  flora  and  fauna  of  the  great  continents. 

2.  In  some  specimens  of  animal  life  there  is  such  a 


378 


NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


strange  mixture  of  different  species,  and  sometimes  of  dif- 
ferent orders — a  mixture  of  beast,  bird,  reptile,  and  fish — 
that  it  would  seem  as  if  Nature,  in  a  jocose  mood  and  with 
a  broad  grin  upon  her  countenance,  had  purposely  formed 
living  conundrums  to  excite  curiosity  and  prove  the  de- 
spair of  science.  Some  of  these  strange  forms  are  ranked 
as  beasts  and  some  as  birds,  as  the  mixed  characteristics 
predominate  in  one  direction  or  the  other1. 

3.  One  of  these  creatures  is  ranked  as  a  mammal,  and  is 
familiarly  called  the  duck-bill.     In  science  it  is  known  as 


The  Ornithorhynchus. 

the  ornithorhynchus,  or  the  beast  with  a  bill,  and  it  is  cer- 
tainly a  marvel  in  structure  and  habits.  It  has  a  broad, 
flat  body,  with  four  short  legs,  the  feet  terminating  in  five 
toes  armed  with  sharp  claws,  and  is  about  the  size  of  a 
woodchuck.  It  is  clothed  with  a  coat  of  fine  fur,  dark 
brown  above  and  whitish  below.  Its  young  are  born  blind, 
like  puppies,  and  are  nourished  with  milk.  It  burrows  in 
the  river-banks  and  forms  nests  of  the  roots  of  trees,  and 


STRANGE  ANIMALS  AND   THEIR  WAYS.       379 

it  can  walk  and  run  rapidly  on  the  land  and  climb  trees. 
So  far,  it  is  quite  like  many  of  the  mammals. 

4.  Its  toes  are  webbed,  and,  when  spread  out,  the  mem- 
brane reaches  beyond  their  extremities.     Its  tail  is  broad 
and  flat,  serving  as  a  rudder  in  the  water.     But  its  most 
peculiar  feature  is  a  broad,  flat  bill,  which  gives  to  it  its 
popular  name  of  duck-bill.     Its  bony  structure  is  a  cross  be- 
tween a  reptile  and  a  bird,  and  its  internal  organs  are  mostly 
those  of  a  bird.      It  swims  and  dives   readily,  and  feeds 
upon  the  worms  and  insects  which  it  turns  up  at  the  bot- 
tom after  the  manner  of  a  duck.     When  standing  upon  its 
hind  legs,  with  its  short  fore  legs  drawn  in  toward  its  breast, 
it  resembles  the  penguin.     In  these  particulars  it  is  most 
like  a  bird. 

5.  It  is  cleanly,  and  is  fond  of  warmth  and  dryness. 
It  is  nocturnal  in  its  habits,  lying  in  its  nest  rolled  up 
like  a  ball  during  the  day,   and  coming  out   at  night  in 
search  of  food.     It  can  remain  under  water  seven  or  eight 
minutes  at  a   time.      In  one  particular  it  is   unlike   any 
other  animal  known  ;  the  mother  emits  her  milk  in  the 
water,  and  this  rises  to  the  surface,  where  it  is  sucked  up 
by  the  young  ones. 

6.  Its  activities  are  as  paradoxical  as  its  structure.     It 
can  crawl  like  a  tortoise,  run  like  a  badger,  swim  like  a 
fish,  dive  like  a  duck,  dig  like  a  mole,  and  climb  like  a 
squirrel.     In  both  structure  and  habit  it  is  clearly  a  survi- 
val of  forms  which  once  existed  all  over 'the  surface  of  the 
earth,  but  which  are  now  elsewhere  extinct ;  and  it  may 
justly  be  regarded  as  a  living  link  connecting  the  present 
with  the  long  past. 


380  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 


GRIZZLY. 

1.  COWAKD — of  heroic  size, 
In  whose  lazy  muscles  lies 
Strength  we  fear  and  yet  despise  ; 
Savage — whose  relentless  tusks 
Are  content  with  acorn-husks  ; 
Robber — whose  exploits  ne'er  soared 
O'er  the  bee's  or  squirrel's  hoard  ; 
Whiskered  chin  and  feeble  nose, 
Claws  of  steel  on  baby  toes — 
Here,  in  solitude  and  shade, 
Shambling,  shuffling  plantigrade, 
Be  thy  courses  undismayed. 

2.  Here,  where  Nature  makes  thy  bed, 
Let  thy  rude,  half-human  tread 

Point  to  hidden  Indian  springs, 
Lost  in  ferns  and  fragrant  grasses, 

Hovered  o'er  by  timid  wings, 
Where  the  wood-duck  lightly  passes, 
Where  the  wild  bee  holds  her  sweets — 
Epicurean  retreats, 
Fit  for  thee,  and  better  than 
Fearful  sports  of  dangerous  man. 

3.  In  thy  fat-jowled  deviltry 
Friar  Tuck  shall  live  with  thee. 
Thou  mayst  levy  tithe  and  dole  ; 

Thou  shalt  spread  the  woodland  cheer, 
From  the  pilgrim  taking  toll  ; 

Match  thy  cunning  with  his  fear  ; 
Eat  and  drink,  and  have  thy  fill, 
Yet  remain  an  outlaw  still  ! 

Bret  ffarte. 


PART  XIV. 
FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS. 


HOUSEHOLD    PETS    IN    TRINIDAD. 

1.  THE  queen  of  all  the  pets  is  a  black  and  gray  spider- 
monkey  from  Guiana,  consisting  of  a  tail  which  has  devel- 
oped, at  one  end,  a  body  about  twice  as  big  as  a  hare's  ; 
four  arms  (call  them  not  legs),  of  which  the  front  ones  have 
no  thumbs,  nor  rudiments  of  thumbs  ;   a  head  of   black 
hair,  brushed  forward  over  the  foolish,  kindly,  greedy,  sad 
face  with  its  wide,  suspicious,  beseeching  eyes ;  and  a  mouth 
which,  as  in  all  these  American   monkeys,  as  far  as  we 
have  seen,  can  have  no  expression,  not  even  that  of  sen- 
suality, because  it  had  no  lips.     Others  have  described  the 
spider-monkey  as  four  legs  and  a  tail,  tied  in  a  knot  in  the 
middle  ;  but  the  tail  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  important 
of  the  five  limbs. 

2.  Wherever  the  monkey  goes,  whatever  she  does,  the 
tail  is  the  standing-point,   or  rather  hanging  -  point.      It 
takes  one  turn  at  least  round  something  or  other  provision- 
ally, and  in  case  it  should  be  wanted  ;  often,  as  she  swings, 
every  other  limb  hangs  in  the  most  ridiculous  repose,  and 
the  tail  alone  supports.     Sometimes  it  carries,  by  way  of 
ornament,  a  bunch  of  flowers  or  a  live  kitten.     Sometimes 
it  is  curled  round  the  neck,  or  carried  over  the  head  in  the 
hands,  out  of  harm's  way  ;  or,  when  she  comes  silently  up 


382  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

behind  you,  puts  her  cold  hand  in  yours,  and  walks  by 
your  side  like  a  child,  she  steadies  herself  by  taking  a  half 
turn  of  her  tail  round  your  wrist.  Her  relative  Jack,  of 
whom  hereafter,  walks  about,  carrying  his  chain  to  ease  his 
neck. 

3.  The  spider-monkey's  easiest  attitude  in  walking,  and 
in  running  also,  is  strangely  upright,  like  a  human  being ; 
but  as  for  her  antics,  nothing  could  represent  them  to  you 
save  a  series  of  photographs,  and  those  instantaneous  ones  ; 
for  they  change  every  moment,  not  by  starts,  but  with  a  de- 
liberate ease  which  would  be  grace  in  anything  less  horribly 
ugly,  into  postures  such  as  Callot  or  Breughel  never  fan- 
cied for  the  ugliest  imps  who  ever  tormented  St.  Anthony. 
All  absurd  efforts  of  agility  which  you  ever  saw  at  a  seance 
of  the  Hylobates  Lar  Club,  at  Cambridge,  are  quiet  and 
clumsy  compared  to  the  rope-dancing  which  goes  on  in  the 
boughs  of  the  pine-tree. 

4.  But,  with  all  this,  Spider  is  the  gentlest,  most  obe- 
dient, and  most  domestic  of  beasts.     Her  creed  is,  that  yel- 
low bananas  are  the  summum  bonum  ;  and  that  she  must 
not  come  into  the  dining-room,  or  even  into  the  veranda, 
whither,    nevertheless,    she  slips,  in   fear  and  trembling, 
every  morning,  to  steal  the  little  green  parrot's  breakfast 
out  of  his  cage,  or  the  baby's  milk,  or  fruit  off  the  side- 
board, in  which  case  she  makes  her  appearance  suddenly 
and    silently,    sitting   on   the   threshold   like   a   distorted 
fiend,  and  begins  scratching  herself,  looking  at  everything 
except  the  fruit,  and  pretending  total  absence  of  mind  till 
the  proper  moment  comes  for  unwinding  her  lengthy  ugli- 
ness and  making  a  snatch  at  the  table.     Poor,  weak-headed 
thing,  full  of  foolish  cunning  ;  always  doing  wrong,  and 
knowing  that  it  is  wrong,  but  quite  unable  to  resist  temp- 
tation ;  and  then  profuse  in  futile  explanations,  gesticula- 
tions,   mouthings  of  an  "  Oh !  oh  !  oh  ! "  so  pitiably  hu- 
man that  you  can  only  punish  her  by  laughing  at  her, 


FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS.  383 

which  she  does  not  at  all  like.  One  can  not  resist  the  fancy, 
while  watching  her,  either  that  she  was  once  a  human  be- 
ing, or  that  she  is  trying  to  become  one. 

5.  Her  friends  are  every  human  being  who  will  take 
notice  of  her,  and  a  beautiful  little  Guazupita,  or  native 
deer,  a  little  larger  than  a  roe,  witji  great,  black,  melting 
eyes,  and  a  heart  as  soft  as  its  eyes,  who  comes  to  lick  one's 
hand,  believes  in  bananas  as  firmly  as  the  monkey,  and, 
when  she  can  get  no  hand  to  lick,  licks  the  hairy  mon- 
key for  mere  love's  sake,  and  lets  it  ride  on  her  back,  and 
kicks  it  off,  and  lets  it  get  on  again  and  take  a  half  turn 
of  its  tail  round  her  neck,  and  throttle  her  with  its  arms, 
and  pull  her  nose  out  of  the  way  when  a  banana  is  coming, 
and  all  out  of  pure  love,  for  the  two  have  never  been  intro- 
duced  to  each  other  by  man,  and  the  intimacy  between 
them,  like  that  famous  one  between  the  horse  and  the  hen, 
is  of  Nature's  own  making  up. 

6.  Very  different  from  the  spider-monkey  in  temper  is 
her  cousin  Jack,  who  sits,  sullen  and  unrepentant,  at  the 
end  of  a  long  chain,  having  an  ugly  liking  for  the  calves  of 
passers-by,  and  ugly  teeth  to  employ  them.     Sad  at  heart 
he  is,  and  testifies  his  sadness  sometimes  by  standing  bolt 
upright,  with  his  long  arms  in  postures  oratorio,  almost 
prophetic,  or,  when  duly  pitied  and  moaned  to,  lying  down 
on  his  side,  covering  his  hairy  eyes  with  one  hairy  arm, 
and  weeping  and  sobbing  bitterly. 

7.  He  seems,  speaking  scientifically,  to  be  some  sort  of 
Mycetes  or  Howler,  from  the  flat,  globular  throat,  which 
indicates  the  great  development  of  the  hyoid  bone  ;  but, 
happily  for  the  sleep  of  the  neighborhood,  he  never  utters 
in  captivity  any  sound  beyond  a  chuckle  ;  and  he  is  sup- 
posed, by  some  here,  from  his  burly,  thick-set  figure,  vast 
breadth  between  the  ears,  short  neck,  and  general  cast  of 
countenance,  to  have  been,  in  a  prior  state  of  existence,  a 
man  and  a  brother — and  that  by  no  means  of  negro  blood 


384:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

— who  has  gained  in  this,  his  purgatorial  stage  of  existence, 
nothing  save  a  well-earned  tail.  At  all  events,  more  than 
one  of  us  was  impressed,  at  the  first  sight,  with  the  convic- 
tion that  we  had  seen  him  before. 

8.  Poor  Jack  !  and  it  is  come  to  this  ;  and  all  from  the 
indulgence  of  his  five  senses  plus  "  the  sixth  sense  of  van- 
ity." His  only  recreation  save  eating  is  being  led  about 
by  the  mulatto  turnkey,  the  one  human  being  with  whom 
he,  dimly  understanding  what  is  fit  for  him,  will  at  all  con- 
sort ;  and  having  wild  pines  thrown  down  to  him  from  the 
pine-tree  above  by  the  spider-monkey,  whose  gambols  he 
watches  with  pardonable  envy.  Like  the  great  Mr.  Barry 
Lyndon,  he  can  not  understand  why  the  world  is  so  unjust 
and  foolish  as  to  have  taken  a  prejudice  against  him. 
After  all,  he  is  nothing  but  a  strong,  nasty  brute  ;  and  his 
only  reason  for  being  here  is  that  he  is  a  new  and  unde- 
scribed  species,  never  seen  before,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
never  to  be  seen  again.  charles  Kingdey. 


THE    LIVING    BRIDGE. 

1.  THE  noise  that  we  heard  we  now  ascertained  pro- 
ceeded from  an  army  of  monkeys  on  their  march  through 
the  forest.  As  they  approached  the  stream  we  could  very 
clearly  see  all  their  movements.  "  They  are  coming  toward 
the  bridge ;  they  will  most  likely  cross  by  the  rocks  yon- 
der," observed  Raoul.  "  How— swim  it  ?  "  I  asked.  "  It 
is  a  torrent  there."  "  Oh,  no  !  "  answered  the  Frenchman  ; 
"monkeys  would  rather  go  into  the  fire  than  water.  If 
they  can  not  leap  the  stream,  they  will  bridge  it."  "  Bridge 
it !  and  how  ?  "  "  Stop  a  moment,  Captain  ;  you  shall 
see."  The  half-human  voices  now  sounded  nearer,  and  we 
could  perceive  that  the  animals  were  approaching  the  spot 


FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS.  385 

where  we  lay.  Presently  they  appeared  on  the  opposite 
bank,  headed  by  an  old  gray  chieftain,  and  officered  like  so 
many  soldiers.  They  were,  as  Eaoul  had  stated,  of  the 
ring-tailed  tribe.  One — an  aide-de-camp,  or  chief  pioneer, 
perhaps — ran  out  upon  a  projecting  rock,  and,  after  looking 
across  the  stream,  as  if  calculating  the  distance,  scampered 
back,  and  appeared  to  communicate  with  the  leader.  This 
produced  a  movement  in  the  troop.  Commands  were  is- 
sued, and  fatigue  parties  were  detailed  and  marched  to  the 
front.  Meanwhile,  several  of  them — engineers,  no  doubt — 
ran  along  the  bank,  examining  the  trees  on  both  sides  of 
the  stream. 

2.  At  length  they  all  collected  round  a  tall  cotton-wood 
that  grew  over  the  narrowest  part  of  the  stream,  and  twenty 
or  thirty  of  them  scampered  up  its  trunk.     On  reaching  a 
high  point,  the  foremost — a  strong  fellow — ran  out  upon  a 
limb,  and,  taking  several  turns  of  his  tail  around  it,  slipped 
off  and  hung  head  downward.     The  next  on  the  limb,  also 
a  stout  one,  climbed  down  the  body  of  the  first,  and,  whip- 
ping his  tail  tightly  round  the  neck  and  forearm  of  the 
latter,  dropped  off  in  his  turn  and  hung  head  down.     The 
third  repeated  the  manoeuvre  upon  the  second,  and  the 
fourth  upon  the  third,  and  so  on,  until  the  last  upon  the 
string  rested  his  fore  paws  on  the  ground. 

3.  The  living  chain  now  commenced  swinging  back- 
ward and  forward,  like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock.     The  mo- 
tion was  slight  at  first,  but  gradually  increased,  the  lower- 
most monkey  striking  his  hands  violently  on  the  earth  as 
he  passed  the  tangent  of  the  oscillating  curve.     Several 
others  upon  the  limbs  above  aided  the  movement.     This 
continued  until  the  monkey  at  the  end  of  the  chain  was 
thrown  among  the  branches  of  a  tree  on  the  opposite  bank. 
Here,  after  two  or  three  vibrations,  he  clutched  a  limb  and 
held  fast.     This  movement  was  executed  adroitly,  just  at 
the  culminating  point  of  the  oscillation,  in  order  to  save 

17 


386  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  intermediate  links  from  the  violence  of  a  too  sudden 
jerk. 

4.  The  chain  was  now  fast  at  both  ends,  forming  a  com- 
plete suspension  bridge,  over  which  the  whole  troop,  to  the 
number  of  four  or  five  hundred,  passed  with  the  rapidity 
of  thought.     It  was  one  of  the  most  comical  sights  I  ever 
beheld  to  witness  the  quizzical  expression  of  countenances 
along  that  living  chain  !     The  troop  was  now  on  the  other 
side,  but  how  were  the  animals  forming  the  bridge  to  get 
themselves  over  ?    This  was  the  question  that  suggested 
itself.     Manifestly,  by  number  one  letting  go  his  tail.    But 
then  the  point  of  support  on  the  other  side  was  much  lower 
down,  and  number  one,  with  half  a  dozen  of  his  neighbors, 
would  be  dashed  against  the  opposite  bank,  or  soused  into 
the  water. 

5.  Here,  then,  was  a  problem,  and  we  waited  with  some 
curiosity  for.  its  solution.     It  was  soon  solved.     A  monkey 
was  now  seen  attaching  his  tail  to  the  lowest  on  the  bridge, 
another  girdled  him  in  a  similar  manner,  and  another,  and 
so  on,  until  a  dozen  more  were  added  to  the  string.     These 
last  were  all  powerful  fellows ;  and,  running  up  to  a  high 
limb,  they  lifted  the  bridge  into  a  position  almost  horizon- 
tal.    Then  a  scream  from  the  last  monkey  of  the  new  for- 
mation warned  the  tail  end  that  all  was  ready,  and  the 
next  moment  the  whole  chain  was  swung  over  and  landed 
safely  on  the  opposite  bank.     The  lowermost  links  now 
dropped  off  like  a  melting  candle,  while  the  higher  ones 
leaped  to  the  branches  and  came  down  by  the  trunk.     The 
whole  troop  then  scampered  off  into  the  chaparral  and 
disappeared.  Adventures  in  the  Tropics. 


FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS.  387 


JACKO. 

1.  WHILE  examining  the  tropical  birds  in  an  old  mu- 
seum at  Havre  de  Grace  my  ears  were  assailed  by  a  harsh 
and  unearthly  noise,  as  of  a  duel  between  two  rabid  cats, 
which  brought  in  the  proprietor,  breathless,  to  ascertain 
the  cause.     He  finds  that  the  tailless,  green-coated  African 
monkey,  who  hangs  suspended  from  an  old  parrot's  cage 
outside  the  window,  has  seized  the  incautiously  protruded 
tail  of  his  prettier  and,  therefore,  more  favored  brother,  the 
monkey  from  South  America ;  he,  unfortunate  creature, 
has  crossed  the  "herring-pond  "  in  a  hen-coop,  which  is 
much  too  small  to  contain  himself,  tail  and  all.    This  ap- 
pendage, which  in  his  present  condition  is  neither  useful 
nor  ornamental,  is  perpetually  getting  him  into  scrapes, 
which  the  honorable  representative  of  Africa,  being  tailless, 
escapes. 

2.  Conscious  of  his  condition,  the  poor  American  mon- 
key pulls  in  his  tail,  coils  it  up  as  well  as  he  can,  and  gives 
it  a  most  malicious  bite,  as  much  as  to  say,  "I  wish  you 
were  off ;  you  are  of  no  use  to  me  now,  and  you  look  ter- 
ribly shabby."     He  then  covers  it  up  with  straw,  and  looks 
miserable. 

3.  "  How  much  for  that  monkey  ?  "  I  say — "  the  one  in 
the  hen-coop."    The  monkey  looks  up  as  though  he  under- 
stood what  was  said,  and  with  a  face  which  evidently  says, 
"  Please  buy  me."     The  merchant's  price  is  too  high. 
The  African  rascal  he  will  sell  for  half  the  sum  ;  but  this 
gentleman  grins  so  maliciously  at  the  customer  that  the 
bargain  is  off. 

4.  A  few  months  later,  business  called  me  to  a  neigh- 
boring French  village,  and  when  I  was  ready  to  depart  I 
went  into  the  stable  to  find  the  coachee,  and  there,  what 
was   my   delight   to   see   my  old   friend   of  the   hen-coop 


388  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

perched  on  the  manger,  looking  as  happy  as  a  monkey  could 
look.  He  really  was  a  pretty  fellow :  his  bright  eyes 
sparkled  like  two  diamonds  from  beneath  his  deep-set  eye- 
brows ;  his  teeth  were  of  the  most  pearly  whiteness,  and 
of  these,  through  pride  or  a  wish  to  intimidate,  he  made 
a  formidable  display  on  the  entrance  of  visitors.  His  hands 
were  certainly  not  similar  to  those  of  fair  Rosamond  of 
Woodstock  renown,  but  more  like  the  shriveled  and  dried- 
up  palms  of  the  old  monks  of  St.  Bernard,  whose  mortal 
remains  are  made  an  exhibition  of  in  that  far-famed  con- 
vent. A  more  wicked  pair  of  pickers  and  stealers,  how- 
ever, never  graced  the  body  of  man  or  monkey. 

5.  His  tail,  which  had  now  recovered  its  good  looks, 
gave  additional  charms  to  his  personal  appearance,  and, 
moreover,  was  most  useful,  inasmuch  as  it  performed  the 
office  of   a  hand,  giving  to   the  owner  three  or  five  of 
these  useful  members.     With  this  he  could  cling  on  to  the 
bar  of  the  rack  above  the  manger  and  swing  himself  about, 
a  perfect  living  pendulum.     Well,  too,  he  knew  the  use 
of  it.     If  a  nut  or  apple  thrown  to  him  lodged  just  out  of 
reach  of  his  hands  or  feet,  he  would  run  to  the  full  length 
of  his  chain,  turn  his  face  so  as  to  get  as  much  length 
as  possible,  stretch  out  this  member,  and  pull  toward  him 
the  coveted  delicacy.     If  pursued,  moreover,  and  the  chain, 
dangling  after  him,  got  in  his  way,  he  would  invariably 
coil  his  tail  around  the  links  and  carry  it  high  over  his 
head,  out  of  the  way  of  his  spider-like  legs. 

6.  After  a  considerable  amount  of   bargaining,  Jacko 
was  bought,  and  transferred — chain,  tail,  and  all — to  his  new 
English  master.     At  the  hotel  Jacko  was  secured  by  being 
chained  in  a  little  closet  adjoining  the  bedroom,  and  when 
I  returned,  after  a  half-hour's  absence,  the  paper  was  all 
torn  from  the  walls.     The  pegs  were  all  loosened,  and  the 
individual  peg  to  which  his  chain  had  been  fastened  torn 
completely   from   its   socket.      An    unfortunate   garment 


FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS.  389 

which  happened  to  be  hung  up  in  the  closet  was  torn  into 
a  thousand  shreds ;  and  if  he  had  tied  the  torn  strips  to- 
gether and  made  his  escape  from  the  window,  I  could 
scarcely  have  been  more  surprised. 

7.  After  such  misdeeds  it  was  quite  evident  that  Jacko 
must  no  longer  be  allowed  full  liberty,  and  a  lawyer's  blue 
bag,  with  a  little  hay  at  the  bottom  for  a  bed,  was  provided 
for  him.     It  was  a  movable  home,  and  therein  lay  the  ad- 
vantage, for,  when  the  strings  were  tied,  there  was  no  mode 
of  escape.     He  could  not  get  his  hands  out  to  unfasten 
them  ;  the  bag  was  too  strong  for  him  to  bite  his  way 
through,  and  his  efforts  to  get  out  only  had  the  effect  of 
making  the  bag  roll  on  the  floor  or  jump  into  the  air,  much 
to  the  amusement,  and  sometimes  the  consternation,  of  the 
spectators. 

8.  While  getting  tickets  at  the  Southampton  railway 
station,  Jacko,  who  must  needs  see  everything  that  was  go- 
ing on,  suddenly  poked  his  head  out  of  the  bag  and  gave  a 
malicious  grin  at  the  ticket-seller.     This  much  frightened 
the  poor  man,  but,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  quite  as- 
tonishing under  the  circumstances,  he  retaliated  the  insult. 
"Sir,  that's  a  dog  ;  you  must  pay  for  it  accordingly."     In 
vain  was  the  monkey  made  to  come  out  of  the  bag  and 
exhibit  his  whole  person  ;  in  vain  were  arguments  used  to 
prove  the  animal  in  question  was  not  a  dog  but  a  monkey. 
A  dog  it  was  in  the  views  of  the  official,  and  three  and  six- 
pence was  paid,  as  demanded. 

9.  Thinking  to  carry  the  joke  further,  I  took  out  from 
my  pocket  a  live  tortoise  I  happened  to  have  with  me,  and, 
showing  it,  said  :  "  What  must  I  pay  for  this,  as  you  charge 
for  all  animals  ?"     The  employe  adjusted  his  specs,  with- 
drew from  the  desk  to  consult  with  his  superior,  then,  re- 
turning, gave  the  verdict,  with  a  grave  but  determined 
manner,  "  No  charge  for  them,  sir  ;  them  be  insects." 

10.  When  Jacko  arrived  at  his  destination,  he  was  pro- 


390  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

vided  with  a  comfortable  home  in  the  stall  of  a  stable, 
where  he  could  ascend  through  an  aperture  to  the  hay-loft. 
"While  sitting  in  the  manger,  he  had  one  amusement,  and 
that  was  catching  mice.  These  unsuspecting  little  animals 
would  come  out  to  pick  up  the  corn  left  by  the  horses  in 
the  next  stall.  To  get  at  their  feeding-ground  they  had 
to  run  the  gantlet  of  Jacko's  premises.  He  was  up  to 
this,  and  would  pretend  to  be  asleep,  keeping,  however, 
one  eye  half  open.  The  trick  answered  ;  the  mouse  made  a 
rush,  in  vain  ;  Jacko,  as  quick  as  lightning,  had  his  paw 
upon  him,  and  with  a  tight  squeeze  crippled  the  poor 
brute.  He  would  then  play  with  him  for  some  minutes, 
every  now  and  then  giving  him  a  pat  to  make  him  go 
faster.  When  the  poor  victim  thought  he  had  got  away, 
Jacko  caught  him  again,  and  then — 0  carnivorous  repre- 
sentative of  the  class  Quadrumana! — ate  him  up  like  a 
sugar- plum. 

11.  The  servants,  having  observed  Jacko's  talent  in  this 
line,    bethought  themselves  that  they  could   turn  it  to 
some  good  account ;  and,  as  the  cat  of  the  house  was  ill, 
and  not  having  undergone  a  severe  training  in  the  logical 
school  of  Aristotle,  they  reasoned  to  themselves  as  follows  : 
"Cats  catch  mice  in  the  dark ;  monkeys  catch  mice  in  the 
dark ;   therefore   monkeys   are   cats."     Acting   upon   this 
misleading  syllogism,  they  one  evening  took  Jacko  out  of 
his  comfortable  bed  of  hay  in  the  loft  and  chained  him 
up  in  the  larder,  having  previously  removed  every  eatable 
or  drinkable  thing,  except  some  jam-pots,  which  were  put 
seemingly  out  of  reach,  and,  moreover,  were  well  secured 
with  bladder  stretched  over  their  tops. 

12.  The  night  passed  long  and  miserably  to  poor  Jacko, 
who  was  evidently  much  astonished  at  this  unwonted  treat- 
ment.    All  night  long  the  mice  scampered  about  the  place, 
regardless  of  their  enemy,  while  he,  most  uncatlike,  was 
coiled  up  in   a  soup-tureen,   fast  asleep.     The   morning 


FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS.  391 

dawned,  and  the  mice  retired  to  their  holes  ;  Jacko  awoke, 
scratched  his  shivering  hide,  and,  having  pushed  the  tu- 
reen, his  bed,  from  the  shelf  to  its  utter  demolition,  looked 
around  for  something  to  eat.  The  jam-pots  attracted  his 
notice.  "  There  is  something  good  here,"  thought  he  as 
he  smelled  the  coverings.  "  I'll  see."  His  sharp  teeth  soon 
made  an  aperture  :  he  was  not  disappointed.  The  treas- 
ured jams  —  raspberry,  strawberry,  plum  —  the  vaunted 
Scotch  marmalade,  the  candied  apricots,  the  pride  and  care 
of  the  cook,  disappeared  in  an  unaccountably  short  time 
down  into  the  seemingly  small  gullet  of  the  sweet-toothed 
Jacko. 

13.  Not  if  I  had  a  hundred  mouths  and  a  hundred 
tongues  could  I  describe  the  imprecations  hurled  at  the  de- 
voted head  of  the  now  sick  and  overgorged  gourmand  by 
the  disappointed  and  illogical  cook,  the  owner  of  the  jams, 
as  she  opened  the  door  of  the  larder  at  breakfast-time  to 
see  how  many  mice  the  monkey  had  caught.     Great  was 
the  anger  of  the  female  jailer  ;  great  were  the  malicious 
grins  of  the  captive. 

14.  Some  few  days  after  this  affair  Jacko,  having  been 
restored  to  health  and  favor,  was  warming  himself  before 
the  kitchen  fire.     A  cricket  that  had  been  singing  merrily 
came  a  little  too  far  out  on  the  hearth-stone.     His  fate  was 
sealed  ;  the  next  jump  was  down  the  throat  of  Jacko,  who 
munched  him  as  an  epicure  does  the  leg  of  a  woodcock. 
The  next  tidbit  was  a  black  beetle,  who  ran  out  to  secure 
a  crumb  dropped  from  the  servants'  supper-table ;  he,  too, 
became  a  victim  to  his  rashness.     Having  ascertained  that 
these  beetles  were  nuts  to  Jacko,  I  one  day  gave  him  a  great 
treat  by  upsetting  the  kitchen  beetle-trap  in  his  presence. 
Both  paws  instantly  went  to  work  ;  whole  bunches  of  the 
unfortunate  insects  he  crammed  into  his  cheek-pouches, 
which  served  him  for  pockets,  munching  away  as  hard  as 
he  could  at  the  same  time.     His  paws  could  not  catch  the 


392  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

prey  fast  enough,  so  he  set  his  feet  to  work,  and  grasped 
with  them  as  many  as  he  could  hold.  This  was  not  enough. 
He  swept  a  lot  together  with  his  tail,  and  kept  them  there 
close  prisoners  till  his  mouth  was  a  little  empty,  and  he 
had  time  to  catch  and  devour  them. 

15.  Jacko's  insectivorous  propensities  were  not  confined 
to  black  beetles  alone.     Spiders  formed  a  pleasant  variety. 
Not  a  spider  was  left  alive  in  the  stable  where  he  was  con- 
fined or  outside  of  it ;  the  most  enormous  stones  would  he 
pick  out  of  the  wall  with  his  little  fingers,  in  search  of  a 
runaway  web-spinner.     He  was  really  of  great  use  in  clear- 
ing the  house  of  this  housemaid's  pest.     I  often  used  to 
put  a  bit  of  string  to  the  end  of  his  chain  and  let  him  run 
up  the  curtains.     He  would  then  completely  rummage  out 
and  devour  the  spiders,  who,  having  had  their  webs  so  fre- 
quently knocked  down  by  the  relentless  broom,  had  thought 
to  spin  in  security  on  the  top  of  the  cornices  and  among 
the  curtain-rods. 

16.  A  great  treat  it  was  to  Jacko  to  have  a  large  bowl 
of  warm  water  given  him.    He  would,  first  of  all,  cunningly 
test  the  temperature  with  his  hand,  and  then  gradually 
step  into  the  bath,  first  one  foot,   then  the  other,  finally 
completely  sitting  down  in  it.       Comfortably  placed,    he 
would  then  take  the   soap  in   his  hands   or  feet,  as  the 
case  might  be,  and  rub  himself  all  over.     Having  made  a 
dreadful  mess  on  the  table,  and  finding  the  water  becoming 
cold,  the  next  part  of  the  play  was  to  get  out  and  run  as 
quickly  as  he  could  to  the  fire,  where  his  coat  soon  became 
dry.    If  anybody  laughed  at  him  during  this  performance,  he 
would  chatter  and  grin  at  them,  and  frequently  even  splash 
water  out  of  the  bath  at  them. 

17.  Poor  fellow  !  his  love  for  a  bath  one  day  got  him 
literally  "  into  hot  water."     The  large  kitchen-kettle,  filled 
with  water,  was  left  on  the  fire   to  boil ;  Jacko  took  the 
lid  off,  and,  finding  it  warm,  sat  down,  his  head  only  ap- 


FOUR-HANDED  FOLKS.  393 

pearing  above  the  water.  This  was  very  comfortable  for 
some  time,  but  the  water,  heated  by  the  flames  beneath, 
began  to  get  hot ;  Jacko  raised^  his  body  a  little,  but,  find- 
ing the  air  very  cold  by  contrast,  immediately  sat  down 
again.  This  he  continued  to  do  for  some  time,  never  being 
able  to  sum  up  the  courage  to  face  the  cold  air.  The  con- 
sequence was  that  the  poor  little  wretch  was  nearly  scalded, 
and  if  it  had  not  bean  for  the  timely  interference  of  one  of 
the  servants,  who  took  his  parboiled  carcass  out  by  main 
force,  he  would  have  become  a  martyr  to  his  own  want  of 
pluck  and  firmness  in  action. 

18.  Jacko's  organ  of  imitation  appears  to  have  been 
very  great.  On  one  occasion  he  tried  his  hand  at  knife- 
cleaning  ;  but  it  was  the  handles  which  he  attempted  to  pol- 
ish, while  he  held  the  blade  in  his  hand,  as  a  cut  attested 
the  next  day.  He  next  set  to  work  to  polish  shoes  as  he 
had  seen  William  do,  but  he  covered  the  soles  all  over 
with  the  blacking,  and  emptied  what  was  left  of  a  bottle  of 
Day  &  Martin  into  the  shoe,  nearly  filling  it.  When  the 
servants  entered  he  retreated  to  his  basket  in  the  corner, 
and  tried  to  look  as  though  nothing  had  happened.  After 
several  years  of  mischief  and  torment,  Jacko  got  an  at- 
tack of  bronchitis.  He  was  wrapped  in  flannel  and  placed 
before  the  fire,  and  great  care  was  taken  of  him,  but  all  in 
vain ;  he  died.  Not  wishing  to  lose  sight  of  him  altogether, 
I  had  his  bones  made  into  a  skeleton,  and  now, 
In  a  cabinet  high  on  a  shelf, 
He  lies  as  a  monument  raised  to  himself. 

Frank  Buckland. 


PART    XV. 
ADVENTURES  AND   INCIDENTS. 


OUR    HUNTING-LODGE    AND    NEIGHBORS. 

1.  THE  scene  of  the  following  description  is  in  the  Scot- 
tish Highlands,  where  the  writer  and  his  brother  passed  sev- 
eral years  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  scenery  and  wild  sports 
of  the  region.     Their  temporary  quarters  were  fixed  at  a 
little  hamlet,  and  to  reach  the  deer-forests  they  were  obliged 
to  cross  the  Findhorn  River,  a  small  stream  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  Highlands.     Here  follows  the  story  : 

2.  The   Findhorn,   however,  which   was  so  calm   and 
bright  and  sunny  when  the  otters  floated  down  its  current 
in  a  still  summer's  morning,  was  a  fierce  and  terrible  enemy 
in  its  anger ;  and,  for  a  great  part  of  the  year,  the  dread 
of  its  uncertainty  and  danger  was  a  formidable  cause  for  the 
preservation  of  that  profound  solitude  of  the  forest  which 
so  long  made  it  the  sanctuary  of  deer,  roe,  and  every  kind 
of  wild  game.     The  rapidity  with  which  the  river  comes 
down,  the  impassable  height  to  which  it  rises  in  an  incred- 
ibly short  time,  its  incertitude  and  fury,  would  render  it  an 
object  of  care  to  bold  forders  and  boatmen ;  but  with  the 
peasants,  unaccustomed,  like  the  Highlanders,  to  wrestle 
with  a  mountain-torrent,  and,  excepting  in  rare  instances, 
unable  to  swim,  it  inspires  a  dread  almost  amounting  to 
awe.     Pent  within  a  channel  of  rocks  from  fifty  to  a  hun- 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  395 

dred  and  eighty  feet  in  height,  the  rise  of  the  water  is  rap- 
idly exaggerated  by  the  incapability  of  diffusion  ;  and  the 
length  of  its  course  sometimes  concealing  beyond  the  hori- 
zon the  storms  by  which  it  is  swelled  at  its  source,  its  floods 
then  descend  with  unexpected  violence. 

3.  Frequently,  when  the  sun  is  shining  in  a  cloudless 
sky,  and  the  water  scarce  ripples  over  the  glittering  ford,  a 
deep,  hollow  sound,  a  dull,  approaching  roar,  may  be  heard 
in  the  gorges  of  the  river  ;  and  almost  before  the  wading 
fisherman  can  gain  the  shore,  a  bank  of  water,  loaded  with 
trees  and  rocks  and  wreck,  will  come  down  three,  four, 
five  feet  abreast,  sweeping  all  before  it  in  a  thunder  of  foam 
and  ruin.     In  ordinary  cases,  after  two  days  of  rain,  the 
stream  will  rise  twenty  or  thirty  feet — it  has  risen  nearly 
ten  fathoms  in  its  rocky  gulf ;  and  once,  upon  this  occa- 
sion, it  mounted  fifteen  feet  in  a  quarter  of  an   hour. 
When  the  day  broke,  it  appeared  sweeping  through  the 
trees,  which  the  evening  before  hung  fifty  feet  above  its 
brink,  a  black,  roaring  tempest,  loaded  with  ruins  and  de- 
bris, from  which  were  seen  at  times  the  white  skeletons  of 
trees,  peeled  of  their  bark,  beams  and  fragments  of  houses 
— a  cart,  a  door,  a  cradle — hurrying  and  tilting  through  the 
foam  and  spray,  like  the  scattered  flotsam  of  a  wreck. 

4.  Often  have  we  gone  out  in  a  clear,  sapphire  morning, 
when  there  was  scarce  a  ripple  on  the  pools,  and  the  water 
on  the  ford  was  not  over  our  boots  ;  and  when  we  returned 
at  evening,  and  approached  through  the  dark  veil  of  pines 
which  descended  toward  the  river,  have  heard  a  roar  as  if 
the  world  were  rolling  together  down  the  black  trough  be- 
fore us,  and,  as  we  came  out  on  the  bank,  found  a  furious 
tempest   of  water  tumbling  and   plunging  and    leaping, 
over  stock  and  rock,  twenty  feet  upon  the  rocks  where  we 
had  left  it  whimpering  among  the  pebbles  in  the  morn- 
ing ;    while  in  the    far,    deep,  birch-embowered  channel, 
where  the  stream  was  then  so  still  and  placid  that  you 


396  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

could  only  guess  its  course  by  the  bright,  glistening  eye 
which  here  and  there  blinked  between  the  trees  and  stones 
— now  it  came  yelling  and  skirling  and  clamoring  down 
the  rocks  and  falls,  as  if  all  the  air  was  full  of  gibber- 
ing, babbling,  laughing  demons,  who  were  muttering  and 
yammering  and  prophesying  and  hooting  at  what  you  were 
going  to  do  if  you  attempted  to  cross. 

5.  As  the  bridge  was  two  miles  below,  and  there  was 
this  continual   uncertainty  at   the  ford,  I  determined    to 
build  a  hunter's  hut,  where  we  might  lodge  for  the  night 
when  it  was  impossible  to  cross  the  water.     There  is  a  high 
and  beautiful  crag  at  the  crook  of  the  river,  near  the  "  Lit- 
tle Eas  " — a  precipice  eighty  feet  in  height,  and  then,  like  a 
vast  stone  helmet,  crowned  with  a  feathery  plume  of  wood, 
which  nodded  over  its  brow.     From  its  top  you  might  drop 
a  bullet  into  the  pool  below,  but  on  the  south  side  there  is  an 
accessible  woody  bank,  down  which,  by  planting  your  heels 
firmly  in  the  soil  and  among  the  roots  of  the  trees,  there  is 
a  descent  to  a  deep  but  smooth  and  sandy  ford.     Upon  the 
summit  of  the  rock  there  is,  or  there  was— my  blessing 
upon  it ! — a  thick  and  beautiful  bird-cherry,  which  hung 
over  the  crag,  and  whose  pendent  branches,  taking  root  on 
the  edge  of  the  steep,  shot  up  again  like  the  banyan,  and 
formed  a  natural  arbor  and  close  trellis  along  the  margin 
of  the  precipice. 

6.  Behind  its  little  gallery  there  is  a  mighty  holly,  un- 
der which  the  snow  rarely  lies  in  winter,  or  the  rain  drops 
in  summer.     Beneath  the  shelter  of  this  tree,  and  within 
the  bank  at  its  foot,  I  dug  a  little  cell,  large  enough  to 
hold  two  beds,  a  bench,  a  hearth,  a  table,  and  a  "  kistie." 
The  sides  were  lined  with  deals  well  calked  with  moss,  and 
the  roof  was  constructed  in  the  same  manner,  but  covered 
with  a   tarpaulin,  which,  lying  in  the  slope  of  the  sur- 
rounding bank,  carried  off  any  water  which  might  descend 
from  thaw  or  rain,  and,  when  the  autumn  trees  shook  off 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  397 

their  leaves,  could  not  be  distinguished  from  the  adjoining 
bank. 

7.  Its  door  was  on  the  brink  of  the  crag,  veiled  by  the 
thick  bird- cherries  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice  ;  and  the 
entrance  to  the  little  path,  which  ascended  from  either  side 
upon  the  brow  of  the  rock,  was  concealed  by  a  screen  of 
birch  and  hazel,  beneath  which  the  banks  were  covered 
with  primroses,  wood-anemones,  and  forget-me-not.     Bow- 
ers of  honeysuckle  and  wild  roses  twined  among  the  lower 
trees  ;  and  even  in  the  tall  pines  above,  the  rose  sometimes 
climbed  to  the  very  top,  where  all  its  blossoms,  clustering 
to  the  sun,  hung  in  white  tassels  out  of  the  dark-blue 
foliage.     There  the  thrush  and  the  blackbird  sang  at  morn- 
ing and  evening,  and  the  owl  cried  at  night,  and  the  buck 
belled  upon  the  Torr.     Blessed,  wild,  free,  joyous  dwell- 
ing, which  we  shall  never  see  again  ! 

8.  When  in  our  little  bothy,  we  had  companions  on 
every  side ;  from  the  passenger  which  came  from  Norway, 
to  the  little  native  guest — the  robin  which  roosted  in  the 
holly-bush  above  us.     "  The  robin  ?"  you  smile  and  say. 
Yes,  there  was  but  one.     He  lived  in  the  bush,  as  we  lived 
in  the  bothy,  and  we  were  his  neighbors  too  long  not  to  be 
very  well  acquainted.     His  species,  as  well  as  all  the  small 
tribes,  are  very  local  in  their  range  and  habits,  and  may  be 
found  all  the  year  in,  or  near,  the  same  place  ;  and  those 
who  feed  them  will  rarely  wait  many  minutes  for  their 
appearance.     There  were  many  robins  which  lived  about 
the  bothy,  and  all  were  continually  in  its  vicinity,  and  very 
tame,  but  none  so  gentle  and  grateful  as  our  little  neighbor 
of  the  holly. 

9.  They  would,  however,  enter  the  hut,  sit  on  the  bed 
or  the  table,  and  hop  about  the  floor,  and,  when  I  went  out, 
follow  me  to  the  brae.     They  liked  very  much  to  see  me 
turn  up  the  soil,  which  always  provided  them  with  a  little 
feast ;  accordingly,  they  were  never  absent  at  the  planting 


398  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

of  a  shrub  or  a  flower ;  and  when  I  brought  home,  in  my 
shooting-bag,  a  tuft  of  primroses,  pyrolas,  or  lilies  of  the 
valley,  they  were  always  in  attendance  to  see  them  put  into 
the  bank.  For  watching  my  occupation,  they  preferred 
something  more  elevated  than  the  ground,  but  not  so  high 
as  the  branches  of  the  trees,  which  were  too  far  from  the 
earth  to  give  them  a  clear  sight  of  what  I  turned  up ;  for 
their  accommodation,  therefore,  I  made  little  crosses  and 
crotchets,  and,  when  I  was  planting,  set  them  up  beside  me, 
moving  them  as  I  proceeded  from  place  to  place.  Each 
was  immediately  occupied  by  an  attentive  observer ;  and, 
whenever  an  insect  or  a  worm  was  discovered,  one  of  the 
nearest  darted  down  and  caught  it,  even  from  between  my 
fingers,  and  disappeared  for  a  few  moments  under  the  rock 
or  between  the  great  holly,  to  enjoy  his  success  undisturbed. 
At  his  disappearance  his  place  was  immediately  occupied  by 
another,  but  at  the  return  of  the  first  it  was  amiably  re- 
signed by  his  successor. 

10.  The  blue-bonnets  were  almost  as  numerous  as  the 
robins,  but  they  never  arrived  at  the  same  intimacy  and 
confidence.     They  never  entered  the  bothy  in  my  presence, 
and  even  when  I  fed  them  they  would  not  approach  as  long 
as  I  remained  outside  the  door ;  but  as  soon  as  I  went  in 
they  descended  four  or  five  together,  chattering  and  flutter- 
ing about  the  entrance,  peeping  in  at  the  little  Avindow, 
and  stretching  their  necks  as  far  as  they  could  to  see  where 
I  was,  and  if  all  was  right.     Then  they  would  begin  their 
breakfast  on  what  I  had  left  for  them,  talking  a  great  deal 
about  it,  but  occasionally  ogling  the  door,  in  a  manner  from 
which  I  concluded  that  there  was  but  small  esteem  or  grati- 
tude in  their  conversation. 

11.  Far  different  was  the  friendship  of  our  little  neigh- 
bor in  the  holly.     In  the  morning  he  used  to  come  down 
and  perch  on  the  arm  of  the  bird-cherry,  which  stretched 
over  the  precipice  before  the  door,  waiting  for  its  opening 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  399 

and  the  preparation  of  the  breakfast,  which  he  always 
shared  ;  and  when  we  were  seated  he  would  venture  over 
the  sill  and  gather  the  crumbs  about  the  table  at  our  feet. 
Often,  when  the  first  blood-red  streaks  of  the  autumn  morn- 
ing shone  like  lurid  fire  through  the  little  window,  we  were 
awakened  by  his  sad  and  solitary  whistle,  as  he  sat  on  his 
usual  branch,  his  jet-black  eye  cast  toward  the  door,  im- 
patient for  our  appearance.  Many  of  his  little  cousins  there 
were  in  the  wood,  with  whom  we  were  also  well  acquainted, 
and  between  us  happened  many  an  incident  which  increased 
our  interest  and  familiarity. 

12.  I  remember  a  day — one  of  those  deep,  still,  blue  days, 
so  solemn  in  the  forest ;  the  ground  was  covered  with  a  foot 
of  snow,  and  all  the  trees  were  hanging  like  gigantic  ostrich- 
feathers  ;  but  all  the  world  was  blue  ;  the  sky  was  a  sleep- 
ing mass  of  those  heavy  indigo  clouds  which   forbode   a 
"feeding  storm  "  ;  not  a  tempest,  but  a  fall  of  snow ;  for 
in  Scotland  snow  is  called  storm,  however  light  and  still  it 
falls  ;  thus,  in  tracking  the  deer,  we   say  he  "  has  just 
brushed  the  storm  from  the  heather"  ;  and  a  feeding  storm 
is  when  the  clouds  are  continually  feeding  the  earth  with 
its  velvet  pall.     The  reflection  of  those  deep-blue  clouds 
cast  a  delicate  tint  of  the  same  color  over  the  whitened 
world.     1  was  standing  with  my  back  against  a  huge  pine, 
waiting  for  the  hunters  and  dogs. 

13.  As  I  had  been  through  all  the  swamps  and  stripes 
and  wet  hollows  on   that  side  of  the  forest,  and  waded 
through  two  and  three  feet  of  snow-wreaths,  my  kilt  and 
hose,  and,  as  it  seemed,  my  flesh,  was  saturated  to  the  bones 
with  "snawbree,"  and  I  began  to  beat,  first  one  foot,  and 
then   the  other,  to  quicken   the   blood,  which  was  warm 
enough  in  my  trunk.     I  had  scarce  commenced  this  exer- 
cise when  I  heard  a  little  "  tic! "  close  to  my  ear,  and  the 
soft,  low  voice  of  a  bird — a  sound,  neither  a  whistle  nor  a 
chirp,  but  which  I  knew  very  well  before  I  turned  and  saw 


400  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

the  robin,  who  sat  on  a  dry  branch  within  a  yard  of  my 
cheek.  I  guessed  what'  had  brought  him  :  he  was  very 
cold,  his  ruined  back  humped  as  round  as  a  ball,  and  his 
tail  drooping  almost  perpendicular  with  his  legs,  as  if  it 
was  a  little  brown  peg  to  lean  on,  like  that  on  which  the 
traveling  Tyrolean  merchant  rests  his  pack. 

14.  He  looked  at  me  with  his  large,  black  eye  ;  then, 
with  a  flirt  of  his  tail  and  a  bow  with  his  head,  indicated 
that,  if  I  had  no  objection,  he  should  like  to  descend  to  the 
place  which  I  occupied,  the  object  of  which  he  expressed 
by  turning  his  head  sidelong,  and  directing  one  eye  into 
the  black  earth  which  my  foot  had  beaten  bare  in  the  snow. 
I  immediately  drew  back  a  couple  of  feet,  and  he  instantly 
dropped  into  the  spot  of  mold,  peeped  and  picked  under 
every  leaf  and  clod  of  earth,  and,  when  there  was  nothing 
more,  hopped  up  on  the  guard  of  my  rifle,  on  which  I  was 
leaning,  and,  turning  his  head,  looked  at  me  with  his  upper 
eye.     I  again  stepped  forward,  and  recommenced  my  foot- 
exercise,  during  which  he  returned  to  his  branch,  examin- 
ing my  progress  with  some  impatience.     As  soon  as  my 
foot  was  removed  he  again  dropped  into  the  hollow,  and 
busily  collected  all  the  little  grubs  and  chrysales  which, 
though  too  small  for  me  to  see  as  I  stood,  I  knew  abounded 
beneath  the  sere  leaves  and  thatch  of  moss  and  sticks. 

15.  In  this  manner  I  repeated  his  supply  several  times,  on 
one  of  which,  when  I  was  too  long,  or  he  too  impatient,  he 
dropped  from  his  perch  and  hovered  over  the  space  in  which 
my  foot  was  at  work,  and,  as  I  continued,  lighted  on  the 
point  of  the  other  shoe,  and  remained  there,  peeping  into 
the  hollow,  until  I  withdrew  my  foot,  and  then  descended 
to  finish  his  repast.     When  he  was  satisfied,  he  ruffed  his 
feathers,  looked  up  sidelong  to  me,  and,  after  a  shake  of 
satisfaction,  resumed  his  perch  close  to  my  head,  and,  after 
pruning  and  oiling  his  feathers,  mounted  another  branch 
higher,  and  opened  his  little  throat  with  that  most  sad, 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  401 

sweet,  and  intermitting  warble  which  gives  such  a  melan- 
choly charm  to  a  still  winter's  day. 

Charles  Edward  Stuart. 


THE-SLOTH. 

1.  THIS  singular  animal  is  destined  by  nature  to  be  pro- 
duced, to  live,  and  to  die  in  the  trees ;  and,  to  do  justice 
to  him,  naturalists  must  examine  him  in  'this  upper  ele- 
ment.    He  is  a  scarce  and  solitary  animal,  and,  being  good 
food,  he  is  never  allowed  to  escape.     He  inhabits  remote 
and  gloomy  forests,  where  snakes  take  up  their  abode,  and 
where  cruelly  stinging  ants  and  scorpions,  and  swamps, 
and  innumerable  thorny  shrubs  and  bushes,  obstruct  the 
steps  of  civilized  man.     Were  you  to  draw  your  own  con- 
clusions from  the  descriptions  which  have  been  given  of 
the  sloth,  you  would  probably  suspect  that  no  naturalist 
has  actually  gone  into  the  wilds  with  the  fixed  determina- 
tion to  find  him  out,  and  examine  his  haunts,  and  see 
whether  nature  has  committed  any  blunder  in  the  forma- 
tion of  this  extraordinary  creature,  which  appears  to  us  so 
forlorn  and  miserable,  so  ill  put  together,  and  so  totally 
unfit  to  enjoy  the  blessings  which  have  been  so  bountifully 
given  to  the  rest  of  animated  nature  ;  for  he  has  no  soles 
to  his  feet,  and  he  is  evidently  ill  at  ease  when  he  tries  to 
move  on  the  ground,  and  it  is  then  that  he  looks  up  in 
your  face  with  a  countenance  that  says,  "  Have  pity  on 
me,  for  I  am  in  pain  and  sorrow." 

2.  However,  we  are  now  in  his  own  domain.     Man  but 
little  frequents  these  thick  and  noble  forests,  which  extend 
far  and  wide  on  every  side  of  us.     This,  then,  is  the  proper 
place  to  go  in  quest  of  the  sloth.     We  will  first  take  a 
near  view  of  him.     By  obtaining  a  knowledge  of  his  anato- 
mv,  we  shall  be  enabled   to  account  for  his  movements 


402  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

hereafter,  when  we  see  him  in  his  proper  haunts.  His 
fore  legs,  or,  more  correctly  speaking,  his  arms,  are  appar- 
ently much  too  long,  while  his  hind  legs  are  very  short, 
and  look  as  if  they  could  be  bent  almost  to  the  shape  of  a 
corkscrew.  Both  the  fore  and  hind  legs,  by  their  form,  and 
by  the  manner  in  which  they  are  joined  to  the  body,  are 
quite  incapacitated  from  acting  in  a  perpendicular  direc- 
tion, or  in  supporting  it  on  the  earth,  as  the  bodies  of 
other  quadrupeds  are  supported  by  their  legs.  Hence, 
when  you  place  him  on  the  floor,  his  belly  touches  the 
ground.  Now,  granted  that  he  supported  himself  on  his 
legs  like  other  animals,  nevertheless  he  would  be  in  pain, 
for  he  has  no  soles  to  his  feet,  and  his  claws  are  very  sharp 
and  long  and  curved ;  so  that,  were  his  body  supported 
by  his  feet,  it  would  be  by  their  extremities,  just  as  your 
body  would  be  were  you  to  throw  yourself  on  all  fours, 
and  try  to  support  it  on  the  ends  of  your  toes  and  fingers — 
a  trying  position.  Were  the  floor  of  glass,  or  of  a  polished 
surface,  the  sloth  would  actually  be  quite  stationary ;  but, 
as  the  ground  is  generally  rough,  with  little  protuberances 
upon  it,  such  as  stones,  or  roots  of  grass,  etc.,  this  just 
suits  the  sloth,  and  he  moves  his  fore  legs  in  all  directions, 
in  order  to  find  something  to  lay  hold  of ;  and  when  he  has 
succeeded,  he  pulls  himself  forward,  and  is  thus  enabled  to 
travel  onward,  but  at  the  same  time  in  so  tardy  and  awk- 
ward a  manner  as  to  acquire  the  name  of  sloth. 

3.  Indeed,  his  looks  and  his  gestures  evidently  betray 
his  uncomfortable  situation  ;  and,  as  a  sigh  every  now-and 
then  escapes  him,  we  may  be  entitled  to  conclude  that  he 
is  actually  in  pain. 

4.  Some  years  ago  I  kept  a  sloth  in  my  room  for  several 
months.     I  often  took  him  out  of  the  house  and  placed 
him  upon  the  ground,  in  order  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
observing  his  motions.    If  the  ground  was  rough,  he  would 
pull  himself  forward,  by  means  of  his  fore  legs,  at  a  pretty 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  403 

good  pace ;  and  he  invariably  immediately  shaped  his  course 
toward  the  nearest  tree.  But,  if  I  put  him  upon  a  smooth 
and  well-trodden  part  of  the  road,  he  appeared  to  be  in 
trouble  and  distress.  His  favorite  abode  was  the  back  of  a 
chair ;  and,  after  getting  all  his  legs  in  a  line  upon  the  top- 
most part  of  it,  he  would  hang  there  for  hours  together, 
and  often,  with  a  low  and  inward  cry,  would  seem  to  invite 
me  to  take  notice  of  him. 

5.  The  sloth,  in  its  wild  state,  spends  its  whole  life  in 
trees,  and  never  leaves  them  but  through  force,  or  by  ac- 
cident ;    and,  what  is  more  extraordinary,   not  upon  the 
branches,  like  the  squirrel  and  the  monkey,   but   under 
them.     He  moves  suspended  from  the  branch,  he  rests  sus- 
pended from  it,  and  he  sleeps  suspended  from  it.     To  ena- 
ble him  to  do  this,  he  must  have  a  very  different  formation 
from  that  of  any  other  known  quadruped. 

6.  It  must  be  observed  that  the  sloth  does  not  hang 
head  downward  like  the  vampire.     When  asleep,  he  sup- 
ports himself  from  a  branch  parallel  to  the  earth.    He  first 
seizes  the  branch  with  one  arm,  and  then  with  the  other ; 
and,  after  that,  brings  up  both  his  legs,  one  by  one,  to  the 
same  branch,  so  that  all  four  are  in  line.     He  seems  per- 
fectly at  rest  in  this  position.     Now,  had  he  a  tail,  he 
would  be  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  do  with  it  in  this  posi- 
tion ;  were  he  to  draw  it  up  within  his  legs,  it  would  inter- 
fere with  them  ;  and  were  he  to  let  it  hang  down,  it  would 
become  the  sport  of  the  winds.     Thus  his  deficiency  of  tail 
is  a  benefit  to  him  ;  it  is  merely  an  apology  for  a  tail,  scarcely 
exceeding  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length. 

7.  I  observed,  when  he  was  climbing,  he  never  used  his 
arms  both  together,  but  first  one,  and  then  the  other,  and 
so  on  alternately.    There  is  a  singularity  in  his  hair,  differ- 
ent from  that  of  all  other  animals,  and,  I  believe,  hitherto 
unnoticed  by  naturalists  ;  his  hair  is  thick  and  coarse  at 
the  extremity,  and  gradually  tapers  to  the  root,  where  it 


404:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

becomes  fine  as  a  spider's  web.  His  fur  has  so  much  the 
hue  of  the  moss  which  grows  on  the  branches  of  the  trees 
that  it  is  very  difficult  to  make  him  out  when  he  is  at  rest. 

8.  The  male  of  the  three-toed  sloth  has  a  longitudinal 
bar  of  very  fine  black  hair  on  his  back,  rather  lower  than 
the  shoulder-blades  ;  on  each  side  of  this  black  bar  there  is 
a  space  of  yellow  hair,  equally  fine  ;  it  has  the  appearance 
of  being  pressed  into  the  body,  and  looks  exactly  as  if  it 
had  been  singed.     If  we  examine  the  anatomy  of  his  fore 
legs,  we  shall  immediately  perceive,  by  their  firm  and  mus- 
cular texture,  how  very  capable  they  are  of  supporting  the 
pendent  weight  of  his  body,  both  in  climbing  and  at  rest  ; 
and,  instead  of  pronouncing  them  a  bungled  composition, 
as  a  celebrated  naturalist  has  done,  we  shall  consider  them 
as  remarkably  well  calculated  to  perform  their  extraordinary 
functions. 

9.  As  the  sloth  is  an  inhabitant  of  forests  within  the 
tropics,  where  the  trees  touch  each  other  in  the  greatest 
profusion,  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  he  should  con- 
fine himself  to  one  tree  alone  for  food,  and  entirely  strip  it 
of  its  leaves.     During  the  many  years  I  have  ranged  the 
forests,  I  have  never  seen  a  tree  in  such  a  state  of  nudity  ; 
indeed,  I  would  hazard  a  conjecture  that,  by  the  time  the 
animal  had  finished  the  last  of  the  old  leaves,  there  would 
be  a  new  crop  on  the  part  of  the  tree  he  had  stripped  first, 
ready  for  him  to  begin  again,  so  quick  is  the  process  of 
vegetation  in  these  countries. 

10.  There  is  a  saying  among  the  Indians  that  when  the 
wind  blows  the  sloth  begins  to  travel.     In  calm  weather 
he  remains  tranquil,  probably  not  liking  to  cling  to  the 
brittle  extremity  of  the  branches,  lest  they  should  break 
with  him  in  passing  from  one  tree  to  another ;  but,  as  soon 
as  the  wind  rises,  the  branches  of  the  neighboring  trees  be- 
come interwoven,  and  then  the  sloth  seizes  hold  of  them, 
and  pursues  his  journey  in  safety.     There   is   seldom  an 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  405 

entire  day  of  calm  in  these  forests.  The  trade-wind  gen- 
erally sets  in  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  thus 
the  sloth  may  set  off  after  breakfast,  and  get  a  considerable 
way  before  dinner.  He  travels  at  a  good  round  pace  ;  and 
were  you  to  see  him  pass  from  tree  to  tree,  as  I  haye  done, 
you  would  never  think  of  calling  him  a  sloth. 

11.  Thus  it  would  appear  that  the  different  histories  we 
have  of  this  quadruped  are  erroneous  on  two  accounts  : 
first,  that  the  writers  of  them,  deterred  by  difficulties  and 
local  annoyances,  have  not  paid  sufficient  attention  to  him 
in  his  native  haunts  ;  and,  secondly,  they  have  described 
him  in  a  situation  in  which  he  was  never  intended  by  na- 
ture to  cut  a  figure — I  mean  on  the  ground.     The  sloth  is 
as  much  at  a  loss  to  proceed  on  his  journey  upon  a  smooth 
and  level  floor  as  a  man  would  be  who  had  to  walk  a  mile 
on  stilts  upon  a  line  of  feather-beds. 

12.  One  day,  as  we  were  crossing  the  Essequibo,  I  saw 
a  large  two-toed  sloth  on  the  ground  upon  the  bank  ;  how 
he  had  got  there  nobody  could  tell.     The  Indian  said  he 
had  never  surprised  a  sloth  in  such  a  situation  before  ;  he 
would  hardly  have  come  there  to  drink,  for  both  above  and 
below  the  place  the  branches  of  the  trees  touched  the 
water,  and  afforded  him  an  easy  and  safe  access  to  it.     Be 
this  as  it  may,  though  the  trees  were  not  above  twenty 
yards  from  him,  he  could  not  make  his  way  through  the 
sand  time  enough  to  escape  before  we  landed.     As  soon 
as  we  got  up  to  him  he  threw  himself  upon  his  back,  and 
defended  himself  in  gallant  style  with  his  fore  legs.   "  Come, 
poor  fellow  ! "  said  I  to  him  ;  "  if  thou  hast  got  into  a  hobble 
to-day,  thou  shalt  not  suffer  for  it.     I'll  take  no  advantage 
of  thee  in  misfortune  ;  the  forest  is  large  enough  both  for 
thee  and  me  to  rove  in  ;  go  thy  ways  up  above,  and  enjoy 
thyself  in  these  endless  wilds.     It  is  more  than  probable 
thou  wilt  never  have  another  interview  with  man.     So  fare 
thee  well." 


406  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

13.  On  saying  this,  I  took  a  long  stick  which  was  lying 
there,  held  it  for  him  to  hook  on,  and  then  conveyed  him 
to  a  high  and  stately  mora.     He  ascended  with  wonderful 
rapidity,  and  in  about  a  minute  he  was  almost  at  the  top  of 
the  tree.     He  now  went  off  in  a  side  direction  and  caught 
hold  of  the  branch  of  a  neighboring  tree ;  he  then  pro- 
ceeded toward  the  heart  of  the  forest.     I  stood  looking  on, 
lost  in  amazement  at  his  singular  mode  of  progress.     I  fol- 
lowed him  with  my  eye  till  the  intervening  branches  closed 
in  betwixt  us ;  and  then  I  lost  sight  for  ever  of  the  two-toed 
sloth.     I  was  going  to  add  that  I  never  saw  a  sloth  take  to 
his  heels  in  such  earnest ;  but  the  expression  will  not  do,  for 
the  sloth  has  no  heels.     That  which  naturalists  have  ad- 
vanced of  his  being  so  tenacious  of  life  is  perfectly  true.     I 
saw  the  heart  of  one  beat  for  half  an  hour  after  it  was  taken 
out  of  the  body. 

14.  So  much  for  this  harmless,  unoffending  animal.  He 
holds  a  conspicuous  place  in  the  catalogue  of  the  animals  of 
the  New  World.     Though  naturalists  have  made  no  men- 
tion of  what  follows,  still  it  is  not  less  true  on  that  account. 
The  sloth  is  the  only  quadruped  known  which  spends  its 
whole  life  from  the  branch  of  a  tree  suspended  by  its  feet. 
I  have  paid  uncommon  attention  to   him  in   his  native 
haunts.     The  monkey  and  squirrel  will  seize  a  branch  with 
their  forefeet,  and  pull   themselves  up,  and  rest  or  run 
upon  it ;  but  the  sloth,  after  seizing  it,  still  remains  sus- 
pended, and,  suspended,  moves  along  under  the  branch  till 
he  can  lay  hold  of  another.     Whenever  I  have  seen  him  in 
his  native  woods,  whether   at  rest   or  asleep,   or  on  his 
travels,  I  have  always  observed  that  he  was  suspended  from 
the  branch  of  a  tree.     When  his  form  and  anatomy  are  at- 
tentively considered,  it  will  appear  evident  that  the  sloth 
can  not  be  at  ease  in  any  situation  where  his  body  is  higher 
or  above  his  feet. 

Charles  Waterton. 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  407 


ILLUSTRATIVE    STORIES. 

1.  THE  ARAB'S  HORSE. — The  Arab's  pride  in  the  purity 
of  breed  and  speed  of  his  horse  is  well  illustrated  in  the  fol- 
lowing story  :  A  young  Arab  eloped  with  the  daughter  of  a 
sheik,  and  effected  his  escape  upon  a  mare  stolen  from  the 
bride's  father.     The  sheik  was  incensed  at  the  loss  of  his 
daughter,  but  his  pride  was  gratified  that  his  favorite  mare 
had  distanced  all  the  horses  which  he  had  sent  in  pursuit. 
The  latter  sentiment  was  so  strong  that  he  suppressed  his 
wrath,  and  easily  became  reconciled  to  his  son-in-law. 

2.  THE  HORSE'S  DOCILITY. — An  Eastern  traveler  re- 
lates that  the  Arab  horse  seems  to  know  when  he  is  about 
to  be  sold,  or  when  his  master  is  bargaining  for  him.     He 
becomes  restless,  gives  a  side-glance  from  his  beautiful  eye 
to  the  bargainers,  and  shows  his  discontent  by  scraping  the 
ground  with  his  foot ;  neither  the  buyer  nor  any  one  else 
then  dare  come  near  him.     But  when  the  bargain  is  con- 
cluded, and  the  old  master  delivers  the  halter,  with  a  slice 
of  bread  and  some  salt,  to  the  new  owner,  and  then  turns 
and  walks  away,  the  horse  immediately  becomes  tractable, 
and  in  a  short  time  seems  to  transfer  his  regard  to  the  one 
who  is  henceforth  to  be  his  companion  and  friend. 

3.  A  TRAILED  HORSE. — A  few  years  ago  a  horse  in 
one  of  the  London  theatres  officiated  as  waiter  in  the  per- 
formances.    He  brought  in  the  tea-table,  set  the  requisite 
number  of  chairs,  and  finished  his  achievements  by  taking 
a  kettle  of  boiling  water  from  a  blazing  fire.     He  would 
also  ungirth  his  own  saddle,  and  wash  his  feet  in  a  pail  of 
water. 

4.  A  HELPFUL  HORSE. — A  gentleman  of  Leeds  had  a 
horse  of  unusual  sagacity  and  powers  of  observation.   He  was 


408  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

accustomed  to  drink  from  a  trough  supplied  by  a  pump. 
Upon  being  turned  into  a  field  by  himself,  he  made  his  way 
to  the  trough  as  usual,  but  finding  no  water,  he  seized  the 
handle  of  the  pump  in  his  mouth  and  worked  it  until  he 
had  obtained  water  enough.  This  he  continued  to  do  as 
long  as  he  remained  in  the  field. 

5.  A  FAITHFUL  HORSE. — The  affection  and  intelligence 
of  the  horse  are  well  shown  in  the  following  story,  related 
by  Professor  Kruger.  of  Halle  :    "A  friend  of  mine,  who 
was  riding  home  one  dark  night  through  a  wood,  struck 
his  head  against  the  branch  of  a  tree  and  fell  from  his 
horse,  stunned  by  the  blow.     The  horse  immediately  re- 
turned to  the  house  they  had  left,  a  mile  distant.     Finding 
the  door  closed,  he  pawed  upon  it  with  his  hoof  until  the 
inmates  were  aroused,  and  when  the  door  opened  he  turned, 
and  seemed  to  beckon  them  to  follow.     This  they  did,  and 
the  master  was  found  and  saved." 

6.  HORSE  FRIENDSHIP. — Horses  sometimes  show  great 
attachment  to  their  own  kind.     An  incident  illustrative  of 
this  is  related  by  a  captain  of  French  cavalry.     An  old 
horse  belonging  to  the  company  became  disabled  by  age 
from  eating  his  hay  and  grinding  his  oats.     His  compan- 
ions on  the  right  and  left  seemed  to  appreciate  his  condi- 
tion, and  for  two  months  they  chewed  up  the  food  and  laid 
it  before  their  aged  companion,  thus  preserving  his  life. 

7.  A  TRAINED  DONKEY. — In  the  sixteenth  century  a 
trained  donkey  at  Cairo  attracted  much  attention.      He 
would  dance  in  an  exceedingly  diverting  manner,  and  ap- 
parently in  high  glee ;  but  in  the  midst  of  his  caperings 
his  master  would  say  that  the  soldan  intended  to  employ 
all  donkeys  to  carry  bricks  and  mortar  to  a  new  palace  he 
was  building,  when  the  donkey  would  fall  upon  the  floor, 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  409 

with  closed  eyes  and  heels  upward,  as  though  dead.  No 
efforts  or  commands  would  make  him  stir,  until  his  master 
proclaimed  that  the  soldan  had  issued  an  edict  that  the 
best  and  comeliest  donkeys  were  to  be  invited  to  the  feast 
to-morrow,  when  he  would  start  up  and  prance  for  joy. 
When  his  master  informed  him  that  he  had  been  selected 
to  carry  an  ugly  and  deformed  woman  through  the  city,  he 
lowered  his  ears  and  limped  as  though  he  could  scarcely 
stand. 

8.  SAGACITY  OF  A  SHEEP. — A  gentleman,  while  pass- 
ing through  a  lonely  district  in  the  highlands  of  Scotland, 
observed  a  sheep  hurrying  toward  the  road  before  him,  and 
bleating  most   piteously.     On  approaching  nearer,  it  re- 
doubled its  cries,  and  seemed  to  implore  assistance.     The 
gentleman  alighted,  and  followed  the  sheep  to  a  field  at  no 
great  distance,  where  he  found  a  lamb  completely  wedged 
in  between  two  stones,  and  feebly  struggling  with  its  feet 
uppermost.     He  set  the  lamb  at  liberty,  and  the  grateful 
mother  gave  her  thanks  in  a  series  of  joyful  bleats,  very 
different  in  tone  from  those  she  used  to  first  attract  his  at- 
tention. 

9.  COURAGE  OF  THE  HOG. — In  the  early  settlement  of 
this  country  hogs  were  allowed  to  run  in  the  woods,  where 
they  became  exceedingly  wild.      A  gentleman   traveling 
through  the  forest  in  a  hilly  region  saw  a  herd  of  swine 
acting  in  a  very  curious  manner.     They  had  formed  into  a 
kind  of  sharp-pointed  triangle,  the  pigs  in  the  center,  and 
the  heads  of  the  old  hogs  all  pointing  outward.     At  the 
apex  of  the  triangle  was  an  old  boar,  who  seemed  to  be  in 
supreme  command.     He  now  saw  the  cause  of  the  commo- 
tion.    A  half-famished  wolf  was  endeavoring  to  seize  one 
of  the  lesser  hogs,  but  the  old  boar  constantly  fronted  him, 
and  the  whole  triangle  shifted  its  position,  but  retained  its 

18 


410  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

shape.    There  was  a  sharp  skirmish  and  the  hogs  dispersed, 
and  the  traveler  found  the  wolf  dead  on  the  field. 

10.  COURAGE  OF  THE  CAT. — A  cat  was  one  day  playing 
with  her  kittens  before  the  door  of  a  stable  where  she  lived, 
when  a  large  hawk  darted  down  and  seized  one  of  the  kit- 
tens.    The  old  cat  at  once  sprang  upon  the  enemy,  and 
obliged  him  to  let  the  kitten  go.     A  terrific  battle  then 
ensued  between  the  two.     The  hawk,  from  the  power  of 
his  wings,  the  sharpness  of  his  talons,  and  the  strength  of 
his  beak,  for  a  while  had  the  advantage,  and  cruelly  la- 
cerated the  cat  and  tore  out  one  of  her  eyes.     Nothing 
daunted,  puss  continued  the  fight,  and  succeeded  in  break- 
ing one  of  the  hawk's  wings.     She  had  him  then  at  her 
mercy,  and,  after  a  few  more  vigorous  scratches,  she  tore 
off  his  head.      Satisfied  with  her  victory,  and  unheeding 
her  own  condition,  she  ran  to  the  bleeding  kitten,  licked 
its  wounds,  and  purred  in  great  contentment  over  her  res- 
cued offspring. 

11.  A  DOG'S  SENSIBILITY. — A  few  years  since,  a  noble- 
man, who  had  an  estate  upon  the  famous  Loch  Erne,  in  the 
north  of  Ireland,  had  a  spaniel  which  on  many  occasions 
exhibited  an  uncommon  intelligence.     It  seemed  to  have 
an  instinct  to  fetch  and  carry,  and  would  often  exhibit  this 
propensity  without  special   training.     Observing  the  gar- 
dener laying  down  his  hatchet  to  adjust  his  stakes,  the  dog 
took  the  hatchet  in  his  mouth,  and,  at  the  proper  moment, 
presented  it  handle  first.     This  he  continued  to  do  until 
the  job  was  finished.     One  day  a  frightened  sheep  broke 
away  from  the  flock,  plunged  into  the  loch,  and  swam  di- 
rectly away  from  the  shore.     The  dog  followed  and  caught 
the  sheep  a  mile  and  a  half  out,  just  as  it  was  sinking  from 
the  weight  of  its  water-soaked  fleece,  and  held  it  up  by  the 
horns  until  a  boat  arrived  which  had  been  sent  in  pursuit. 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  411 

This  dog  was  a  general  favorite  for  the  kindness  of  his  dis- 
position and  great  intelligence.  One  day,  when  about  two 
years  old,  he  came  to  his  old  friend  the  gardener,  gave  two 
or  three  short  yelps,  and  went  away  without  paying  any 
heed  to  the  efforts  of  his  friend  to  engage  him  in  his  cus- 
tomary plays.  He  went  to  each  member  of  the  household 
and  saluted  them  in  the  same  manner,  reserving  his  last 
visit  to  his  mistress,  the  lady  of  the  house.  From  her 
presence  he  went  immediately  to  the  kitchen  and  laid  down 
and  died.  The  poor  fellow,  feeling  his  approaching  end, 
had  bid  good-by  to  each  of  his  friends,  and  then,  alone  by 
himself,  had  yielded  up  his  breath.  He  was  mourned  al- 
most as  a  human  being. 

12.  THE  DOG  AS  A  DETECTIVE.  — At  St.  German  an 
Englishman  visited   the  public  gardens,  but  was  obliged 
to  leave  his  dog,  a  fine  mastiff,  outside  in  care  of  the  guard. 
During  his  visit  he  was  robbed  of  his  watch,  and,  upon  in- 
forming the  guard,  he  was  permitted  to  take  in  his  dog  ta 
help  discover  the  thief.     He  then  carefully  informed  the 
dog  of  his  loss,  and  told  him  to  seek  the  watch.     The  dog 
seemed  to   comprehend  at  once,  and  set  out  on  a  tour 
through  the  crowd.     He  ran  in  and  out  in  all  directions, 
and  at  last  seized  hold  of  a  man.     The  guard,  upon  search- 
ing him,  found  not  only  the  Englishman's  watch,  but  six 
others  which  the  industrious  pickpocket  had  secured, 

13.  AN  INTELLIGENT  MONKEY. — The  chimpanzee,  of  all 
the  monkey  tribes,  exhibits  the  most  intelligence.     Upon 
the  authority  of  a  French  traveler  we  have  the  following 
story  :  "  A  chimpanzee,  captured  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  be- 
came quite  domesticated  upon  a  vessel,  and  rendered  her- 
self very  useful.     She  learned  to  heat  the  oven,  taking  care 
that  none  of  the  coals  fell  out,  and,  when  sufficiently  heated, 
she  apprised  the  baker,  who  came  to  rely  with  perfect  con- 


412  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

fidence  upon  her  judgment.  She  learned  to  splice  ropes 
and  to  assist  in  furling  sails.  The  brutal  mate  assaulted 
her  one  day,  and  beat  her  severely  without  provocation. 
She  made  no  resistance,  but  in  a  piteous  manner  held  out 
her  hands  to  break  the  force  of  the  blows.  After  this  she 
seemed  to  take  no  interest  in  anything,  refused  all  food, 
and  on  the  fifth  day  died." 

14.  THE  ELEPHANT  AS  NUKSE. — A  military  officer  in 
the  East  India  service  says  :  "I  have  seen  the  wife  of  a 
mahout  give  a  baby  in  charge  to  an  elephant  while  she  went 
on  some  business,  and  have  been  highly  amused  in  observ- 
ing the  manoeuvres  of  the  unwieldy  nurse.    The  child  began 
crawling  about,  and  would  soon  get  under  the  feet  of  the 
elephant  or  entangled  in  the  branches  of  the  tree  on  which 
he  was  feeding.     The  elephant,  in  the  most  tender  manner, 
would  lift  it  out  of  the  way,  or  remove  the  obstacle  to  his 
progress.     If  the  child  reached  the  limits  of  the  elephant's 
chain,  he  would  pull  it  back  as  gently  as  possible.     When 
the  child  fell  asleep,  he  broke  off  a  branch  and  kept  away 
the  flies,  although  he  was  himself  greatly  annoyed  by  the 
same  pests." 

15.  A  COURAGEOUS  HEK. — In  an  inn-yard  a  favorite 
hen  hatched  out  a  brood  of  chickens,  but  lost  all  but  one. 
One  day,  as  she  was  scratching  about,  a  large  rat  seized  her 
only  remaining  offspring.     The  old  hen  heard  the  cry  of 
distress,  and  with  the  greatest  fury  flew  at  the  rat,  seizing 
him  by  the  neck.     The  rat,  however,  contrived  to  get  free, 
and  in  turn  attacked  the  hen.     The  fight  lasted  twelve 
minutes,  when,  with  a  violent  blow,  she  laid  the  rat  lifeless 
at  her  feet.     She  then  turned  to  the  frightened  chicken, 
folded  it  under  her  wings,  and  clucked  soothingly  and  tri- 
umphantly. 


ADVENTURES  AND  INCIDENTS.  413 

16.  THE  RAVEK'S  STRATAGEM. — A  gentleman  in  Perth- 
shire had  a  tame  raven  named  Jacob,  which  he  kept  in  a 
stable.     The  bird  proved  of  great  use  in  destroying  rats,  and 
the  methods  which  he  took  showed  almost  human  intelli- 
gence.    In  the  forenoon,  while  the  servants  were  out  airing 
the  horses,  Jacob  took  care  to  provide  himself  with  a  bone 
on  which  was  some  meat.     This  he  placed  near  the  rat's 
hole  in  front  of  the  crib,  and  then  perched  himself  above, 
watching  the  bone  with  a  keen  and  steady  look.     When  a 
rat,  attracted  by  the  smell,  made  his  appearance,  Jacob 
pounced  upon  it  at  once,  and  dispatched  it  in  an  instant. 
He  would  then  take  his  place  as  before  and  wait  for  another 
victim.     After  the  horses  returned,  and  there  was  no  fur- 
ther opportunity  for  sport,  he  would  leisurely  feed  upon 
the  game  he  had  captured. 

17.  TAME  CROWS. — When  a  crow  is  tamed,  he  soon 
learns  to  distinguish  all  the  members  of  the  family ;  flies 
toward  the  gate,  screaming,  at  the  approach  of  a  stranger  ; 
learns  to  open  the  door  by  alighting  on  the  latch  ;  attends 
to  meals  at  regular  hours ;  is  extremely  noisy  and  loqua- 
cious ;  imitates  the  sounds  of  various  words  pretty  distinct- 
ly ;  and  is  a  great  thief  and  hoarder  of  curiosities,  hiding  in 
holes,  corners,  and  crevices  every  loose  article  he  can  carry 
off,  particularly  small  pieces  of  metal,  corn,  bread,  and  food 
of  all  kinds.     He  becomes  very  fond  of  the  one  who  takes 
care  of  him,  and  will  recognize  him,  after  a  long  absence, 
with  many  marks  of  affection. 

18.  THE  JACKDAW  n$  LIQUOR. — A  tame  jackdaw  one 
day  found  some  whisky  left  upon  the  kitchen-table,  and 
drank  it  with  great  gusto.     In  a  few  moments  symptoms  of 
intoxication  began  to  appear  :  his  wings  drooped,  his  eyes 
half  closed,  he  staggered  in  his  walk  in  the  most  ludicrous 
manner,  and  he  seemed  to  have  lost  the  use  of  his  wings. 


4:14:  NATURAL  HISTORY  READER. 

He  stood  upon  the  edge  of  the  table  for  a  moment,  as  if 
meditating  flight,  when  his  eyes  finally  closed,  and  he  fell 
upon  his  back  with  his  legs  in  the  air,  apparently  dead.  He 
was  wrapped  in  a  flannel  and  laid  away  on  the  shelf.  The 
next  morning  his  owner  expected  to  find  Jackie  dead,  but  he 
soon  emerged  from  the  blanket,  took  a  prodigious  draught 
of  water,  and,  apparently,  was  no  worse  for  his  potations. 
N.  B. — He  would  never  touch  whisky  again. 

19.  THE  FRIENDLY  KOBIN. — Some  years  ago,  in  Edin- 
burgh, during  a  severe  storm,  a  gentleman  perceived  a  robin 
pecking  at  the  glass.     Upon  opening  the  window,  the  bird 
hopped  into  the  room  and  commenced  picking  up  crumbs 
from  the  floor.     The  window  was  kept  closed  until  the 
storm  was  over,  by  which  time  the  robin  had  become  so 
tame  and  pleased  with  its  new  quarters  that  it  refused  to 
leave.     After  a  little  time  it  would  sit  on  the  table  where 
the  gentleman  was  writing,  and,  when  the  day  was  very  cold, 
it  would  perch  on  the  fender  before  the  fire.     When  a  stran- 
ger came  in,  it  flew  to  the  top  of  the  door,  where  it  perched 
during  the  night.     It  remained  a  favored  inmate  of  the 
household  until  spring,  when  it  took  its  departure  for  the 
summer.     In  the  autumn  it  came  back  to  its  old  quarters, 
and  it  passed  three  winters  in  its  comfortable  home.     The 
next  spring  it  disappeared,  and  never  came  back,  much  to 
the  regret  of  the  family. 

20.  THE  BOBOLINK. — 

"  June's  bridesman,  poet  of  the  year, 
Gladness  on  wings,  the  bobolink  is  here  ; 
Half-hid  in  tip-top  apple-blooms  he  swings, 
Or  climbs  against  the  breeze  with  quivering  wings, 
Or,  giving  way  to  it  in  a  mock  despair, 
Runs  down,  a  brook  of  laughter,  through  the  air." 


APPLETONS'    READERS. 


SOME  DISTINGUISHING  FEATURES. 

Modern  Methods  made  easy. — Education  is  a  progressive  science.  Meth- 
ods of  the  last  century  must  be  discarded.  The  question  ''How  shall  we  teach 
reading?"  is  fully  answered  in  these  books,  and  teachers  who  have  adopted 
and  followed  this  method  have  greatly  improved  their  schools. 

Word  and  Phonic  Method.— By  taking  at  first  words  with  which  the  child 
is  quite  familiar,  and  which  contain  sounds  easily  distinguished  and  continu- 
ally recurring,  both  teacher  and  pupil  will  find  the  Founds  a  great  help  in 
reading  new  words  as  well  as  in  acquiring  a  distinct  articulation. 

Spelling.— Words  selected  from  the  lessons  are  given  for  spelling  with 
each  piece,  thus  affording  the  best  opportunity  for  oral  and  written  spelling- 
lessons  as  well  as  for  definitions.  In  the  Third,  Fourth,  and  Fifth  Readers, 
graded  exercises  in  spelling  analysis,  together  with  daily  lessons  of  words  often 
misspelled  or  mispronounced,  are  placed  in  the  Appendix  for  constant  study. 
With  these  Readers  no  "  Speller"  will  be  needed. 

Illustrations.— The  illustrations  are  beautiful  and  attractive,  and  are  well 
adapted  to  serve  as  a  basis  for  the  language  and  thought  lessons  that  are  so 
prominent  in  these  books. 

Helps  for  Teachers.— Teachers  will  find  in  these  books  a  simple  p^n  that 
will  greatly  aid  them;  while  the  notes,  question!?,  and  suggestions  will  help  the 
teacher  to  impart  the  most  instruction  and  the  best  culture,  which  makes  the 
reading-lesson  something  more  than  a  mere  naming  of  words. 

Oral  Beading.— Proper  oral  expression  depends  on  the  sense.  Get  the  sense 
of  each  extract  and  the  correct  oral  expression  will  be  an  easy  matter.  This  is 
the  key-note  to  Professor  Bailey's  excellent  lessons  on  accent,  emphasis,  inflec- 
tion, and  general  vocal  expression,  that  are  placed  as  reading-lessons  in  the 
Third,  Fourth,  and  Fifth  Readers. 

Selections.— The  selections  embrace  gems  of  literature  from  leading  authors. 
No  other  readers  include  such  a  wide  range  of  thought,  showing  from  the  sim- 
ple stories  for  children  in  the  earlier  books,  to  the  extracts  from  the  best  authors 
in  the  Fourth  and  Fifth,  unity  of  design  and  a  just  appreciation  of  the  needs  of 
our  schools. 

Great  Success— Since  the  publication  of  these  Readers,  their  sale  has  aver- 
aged nearly  a  million  a  year,  which  is  unprecedented  in  the  sale  of  school-books. 

Endorsements.— These  Readers  have  received  the  endorsement  of  nearly 
every  educator  of  note  in  the  United  States,  but  the  best  proof  of  their  merits  is 
found  in  the  great  improvement  manifested  everywhere  they  are  used. 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  Publishers, 

New  York,  Boston,  Chicago,  and  San  Francisco. 


APPLETON  S' 

ELEMENTARY  READING  CHARTS 

Forty-seven  Numbers. 
Prepared  by  REBECCA  D.  RICKOFF. 


WITH  PATENT  SUPPORTEB. 


Designed  to  make  learning  to  read  a  pleasant  pastime. 

Designed  to  cultivate  the  observing  powers  of  children. 

Designed  to  teach  the  first  steps  of  reading  in  the  right  way. 

Designed  to  train  the  mind  of  the  child  by  philosophical  methods. 

Designed  to  furnish  the  primary  classes  with  a  variety  of  interesting 
occupations  in  school-hours. 

Every  step  in  advance  is  in  a  logical  order  of  progression  and  de- 
velopment. 

The  beautiful  and  significant  illustrations  are  an  especially  noticeable 
and  attractive  feature  of  these  charts. 

Every  chart  in  the  series  has  in  view  a  definite  object,  which  is  thor- 
oughly and  systematically  developed. 

Pictures,  objects,  and  things  are  employed,  rather  than  abstract  rules 
and  naked  type. 

They  are  in  accord  with  the  educational  spirit  of  the  day,  and  with 
the  methods  followed  by  the  best  instructors. 

They  are  the  only  charts  planned  with  special  reference  to  the  culti- 
vation of  language  and  the  power  of  expression. 

They  follow  the  natural  method  of  teaching,  appealing  to  those  fac- 
ulties of  the  child  that  are  most  easily  awakened,  and  inciting  correct 
mental  processes  at  the  outset. 

These  charts  introduce  a  new  and  improved  mode  of  suspension  while 
in  use,  a  feature  of  much  practical  value. 

These  charts  should  be  in  every  primary  school  room  in  the  country. 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  Publishers, 

New  York,  Boston,  Chicago,  and  San  FrancJsco. 


AIT  HISTOEICAL  EEADEE 

FOR   THE   USE   OP 

CLASSES  IN  ACADEMIES,  HIGH  SCHOOLS,  AND 
GRAMMAR  SCHOOLS. 

By  HENRY  E.  SHEPHERD,  M.  A., 

SUPERINTENDENT  OP  PUBLIC   INSTRUCTION,  BALTIMORE,  MARYLAND. 


12mo.    Cloth,  $1.25. 

This  work  consists  of  a  collection  of  extracts  representing  the  purest  his 
torical  literature  that  has  been  produced  in  the  different  stages  of  our  literary 
development,  from  the  time  of  Clarendon  to  the  era  of  Macaulay  and  Prescott, 
its  design  being  to  present  to  the  minds  of  young  pupils  typical  illustrations  of 
classic  historical  style,  gathered  mainly  from  English  and  American  writers,  and 
to  create  and  develop  a  fondness  for  historical  study. 

The  book  is  totally  devoid  of  sectarian  or  partisan  tendencies.  The  bio- 
graphical and  critical  notes  are  just  sufficient  to  stimulate  inquiry  and  independ- 
ent research.  The  intention  of  notes  and  comments  is  to  suggest  new  lines  of 
thought,  and  to  develop  a  taste  for  more  extended  investigation. 

"  This  book  is  one  of  the  most  important  text  books  issued  within  our  recol* 
lection.  The  preface  is  a  powerful  attack  upon  the  common  method  of  teaching 
history  by  means  of  compendiums  and  abridgments.  Professor  Shepherd  has 
'long  advocated  the  beginning  of  history  teaching  by  the  use  of  graphic  and 
lively  sketches  of  those  illustrious  characters  around  whom  t!  e  historic  interest 
of  each  age  is  concentrated.'  This  volume  is  an  attempt  to  embody  this  idea  in 
a  form  for  practical  use.  Irving,  Motley,  Macaulay,  Prescott,  Greene,  Froude, 
Mommsen,  Guizot,  and  Gibbon  are  among  the  authors  represented;  and  the  sub- 
jects treated  cover  nearly  all  the  greatest  events  and  greatest  characters  of  time. 
The  book  is  one  of  indescribable  interest.  The  boy  or  girl  who  is  not  fascinated 
by  it  must  be  dull  indeed.  Blessed  be  the  day  when  it  shall  be  introduced  into 
our  high  schools,  in  the  place  of  the  dry  and  wearisome  '  facts  and  figures '  of  the 
4  general  history ' !  "—Iowa  Normal  Monthly. 

"The  most  vivid  of  historical  studies  from  the  hands  of  the  greatest  masters 
of  historical  description.  It  is  a  school-book  which  deserves  a  decided  suc- 
cess."—  Baltimore  Sun. 

41  The  idea  of  the  book  is  excellent— to  teach  history  by  a  sound  method ;  not 
by  abridgments  or  compendiums,  but  by  taking  the  student  at  once  to  the  best 
historical  works  and  selecting  with  judgment  the  masterpieces  of  the  greatest 
writers.  Among  the  selections  we  note  many  of  the  finest  passages  of  the  most 
eminent  historians.1'—  Wilmington  (N.  <7.)  Morning  Star. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers;  or  sent  by  mail,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price. 


New  York :   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


A  GEOGRAPHICAL    READER, 


A  COLLECTION  OF 


Geographical  Descriptions  and  Explanations,  from  the 
best  Writers  in  English  Literature. 

Classified  and  arranged  to  meet  the  wants  of  Geographical  Students. 

By  JAMES  JOHONNOT. 


12x0.0,  cloth $1.25. 


It  is  original  and  unique  in  conception  and  execution. 

It  is  varied  in  style,  and  treats  of  every  variety  of  geographical 
topic. 

It  supplements  the  geographical  text-books,  and,  by  giving  ad- 
ditional interest  to  the  study,  it  leads  the  pupil  to  more  extensive 
geographical  reading  and  research. 

It  is  not  simply  a  collection  of  dry  statistics  and  outline  descriptions, 
but  vivid  narrations  of  great  literary  merit,  that  convey  useful  in- 
formation and  promote  general  culture. 

It  conforms  to  the  philosophic  ideas  upon  which  the  new  educa- 
tion is  based. 

Its  selections  are  from  well-known  writers  and  standard  au- 
thorities. 

It  is  handsomely-  bound,  and  embellished  with  numerous  illustra- 
tions, giving  views  of  many  interesting  objects  and  noted  scenery. 

It  is  an  attractive  and  instructive  book  for  the  home  libraries  of 
both  young  and  old  readers. 


"  Mr.  Johonnot  has  made  a  good  book,  which,  if  judiciously  used,  will 
stop  the  immense  waste  of  time  now  spent  in  most  schools  in  the  study 
of  geography  to  little  purpose.  The  volume  has  a  good  number  of  ap- 
propriate illustrations,  and  is  printed  and  bound  in  almost  faultless  style 
and  taste." — National  Journal  of  Education. 


A.  sample  copy,  for  examination,  will  be  forwarded,  post-paid,  to  any 
teacher  or  school-officer,  on  receipt  of  75  cents. 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


APPLETONS' 
STUDENTS'  LIBRARY. 


Consisting  of  Thirty-four  Volumes  on  Subjects  in  SCIENCE,  HIS- 
TORY, LITERATURE,  and  BIOGRAPHY.     In  neat  i8mo  vol- 
umes, bound  in  cloth.     Each  set  put  up  in  a  box. 


SOLD  IN  SETS  ONLY. 


PRICE,  PER  SET,  $2O.OO. 


CONTAINING : 


'•( 

"1 

nee  / 

,EY.  V 


Homer.  By  W.  E.  GLADSTONE.  > 
Shakespeare.  By  E.  DOWDEN.  j 
English  Literature.  By  8.  A.  ] 

BROOKE. 
Greek  Literature.     By  R.  C.  [ 

JF.BB.  J 

Philology.     By  J.  PEILK. 
English   Composition.     By  J 

NlCHOL. 

Geography.    By  G.  GROVE. 
Classical  Geography.     By 

F.  TOZER. 

Introduction       to       Science 

Primers.    By  T.  H.  HUXL 
Physiology.    By  M.  FOSTER. 
Chemistry.    By  H.  E.  ROSCOE. 
Physics.    By  BALFOUR  STEWART. 
Geology.    By  A.  GEIKIE. 
Botany.    By  J.  D.  HOOKEK. 
Astronomy.    By  J.  N.  LOCKYER. 
Physical   Geography.     By  A. 

GEIKIE. 
Political  Economy.    By  W.  8. 

JEVONS. 

Logic.    By  W.  S.  JEVONS. 
History  of  Europe.    By  E.  A. 

FREEMAN. 
History    of   France.      By   C. 

YONGE. 

History     of    Rome.      By    M. 

CREIGHTON. 
History  of  Greece.    By  C.  A. 

FYFFE. 
Old    Greek    Life.     By   J.    P 

MAHAFFY. 
Roman  Antiquities.    By  A.  S. 

WlLKlNS. 

Sophocles.  By  LEWIS  CAMPBELL,  t 
Euripides.  By  J.  P.  MAHAFFY.  f 
Vergil.  By  Prof.  H.  NETTLESHIP.  [ 
Livy.  By  W.  W.  CAPES  f 

Milton.  By  STOPFORD  A.  BROOKE.  I 
Demosthenes.  By  8.  H.  BUTCHER,  f 


I 


The    Apostolic 
Apologists. 

JACKSON. 


Fathers    and    the 

By  the   Eev.  G.   A. 


The  Fathers  of  the  Third  Century. 

By  the  Rev.  G.  A.  JACKSON. 

j  Thomas  Carlyle  s  His  Life— his  Books 
—his  Theories.    By  A.  H.  GUERNSEY. 


|  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

GUERNSEY. 


By  A.  H. 

By 


By  S.  G. 
By  CHAELES  KINGS- 


Macaulay:  His  Life- his  Writings. 
C.  H.JONES. 

j  Short   Life   of   Charles    Dickens. 

By  C.  H.  JONES. 

Short  Life  of  Gladstone.    By  C.  H. 

JONES. 

Rnskin  on  Painting. 

|  The  World's  Paradises. 
W.  BKNJAMIN. 

Town  Geology. 

LEY. 

!  The  Childhood  of  Religions.     By 

E.  CLODD. 

i  History  of  the  Early  Church.    By 

E.  M.  SEWELL. 

!  The    Art    of    Speech.      Poetry  and 
Prose.    By  L.  P.  TOWNSEND. 

j  The  Art  of  Speech.     Eloquence  and 

Logic.    By  L.  P.  TOWNSEND. 

The   Great    German    Composers. 

By  G.  T.  FEREIS. 

The    Great    Italian    and    French 
Composers.    By  G.  T.  FERRIS. 

Great  Singers.    First  Series.    By  G. 

T.  FERRIS. 

Great   Singers.     Second  Series.     By 
G.  T.  FERRIS. 

Great  Violinists  and  Pianists.    By 

G.  T.  FERRIS. 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


APPLETONS' 

Standard  American  Geographies. 

Based  on  the  Principles  of  the  Science  of  Education,  and 
giving  Special  Prominence  to  the  Industrial, 
)mmercial,  and  Practical  Features. 


A   Comprehensive  Course,  in  Two  Books,  for  Graded  Schools, 


The  remarkable  success  which  Appletons'  Readers  have  attained,  both  com- 
mercially and  educationally,  is  due  to  the  fact  that  no  effort  or  expense  was 
spared  to  make  them  not  only  mechanically  but  practically  and  distinctively 
superior,  in  their  embodiment  of  modern  experiences  in  teaching,  and  of  the 
methods  followed  by  the  most  successful  and  intelligent  educators  of  the  day. 

We  now  offer  a  new  series  of  Geographies,  in  two  books,  which  as  far  excel 
all  geographical  text  books  hitherto  published  as  our  Readers  are  in  advance 
of  the  old  text-books  in  Reading. 


BRIEF  MENTION  OF  NOTICEABLE  FEATURES. 

PREPARED  in  accordance  with  the  views  of  the  best  teachers  and  educators. 

The  subject  is  treated  first  objectively ;  then  subjectively. 

No  formal  definitions;  new  and  necessary  ideas  are  imparted  in  reading- 
lessons. 

Geographical  facts  are  linked  with  striking  facts  of  history,  natural  history, 
commercial  and  social  life. 

Illustrations  are  furnished  on  which  to  base  questions  leading  np  from  things 
familiar. 

The  pupil  is  tausht  to  appreciate  distance  and  to  apply  the  scale  of  the  map. 

The  system  of  reviews,  the  written  exercises,  the  paragraphs  in  heavy-faced  type, 
and  the  occasional  references  to  standard  works,  are  worthy  of  special  attention. 

Great  prominence  is  given  to  commerce  and  to  the  leading  industries,  which 
are  illustrated  with  graphic  designs. 

SUGGESTIVE  QUESTIONS,  requiring  independent  thought,  are  introduced. 

Pronunciation  of  difficult  proper  names  is  given  where  they  occur,  as  well  ae 
in  the  Reference-Tables. 

THE  STUDY  MAPS  challenge  comparison  in  point  of  correctness,  distinctness, 
and  artistic  finish.  By  the  use  of  both  black  and  brown  lettering  a  convenient 
study-map  is  combined  with  a  Reference  Map,  with  marginal  indexes. 

THE  PHYSICAL  MAPS  are  unequaled  in  usefulness,  comprehensiveness,  and 
beauty ;  the  Commercial  Map  of  the  World,  the  Historical  Maps,  and  the  Map  of 
the  Arctic  Regions,  will  be  found  of  great  value  for  reference. 

THE  ILLUSTRATIONS  are  fresh,  graphic,  and  instructive  works  of  art. 

The  results  of  recent  discovery,  including  the  last  census,  have  been  embodied, 
and  the  most  trustworthy  statistics  and  authorities  have  been  consulted  to  insure 
correctness. 


Liberal  terms  made  to  schools  for  introduction  and  exchange.     For  priest 
and  full  information,  address 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  New  York,  Boston,  Chicago,  San  Francisco. 


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